Heart of Gold
by Robbie the Phoenix
Summary: AU. Someone is following Dean and Sam. The brothers have no idea who she is, but whoever she is, she seems to know about the Winchester brothers’ secret, and what’s more, she knows from experience what the brothers’ went through twenty two years ago.
1. Help From High Places

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I do own the mysterious figure (though he/she is not really very much yet).

Authors Note: So, after a dozen re-writes of chapter 2 of Destiny's New Path II, I decided I needed to focus my writing in another place for a while. So I started writing a book. In between writing the book, I decided to write this.

Summary: Someone is following Dean and Sam. The brothers have no idea who she is, but whoever she is, she seems to know about the Winchester brothers' secret, and what's more, she knows from experience what the brothers' went through twenty two years ago.

Background: Starts in the episode 'Bloody Mary', where Dean is trying to explain himself to the cops while Sam is being facing Bloody Mary.

Prologue – Help From High Places

"Like I said, I was adopted." Dean said, doing his best to sound genuine. For some reason, though, the cops weren't buying it.

"Yeah?" One of them asked. Dean saw out of the corner of his eye that the cop standing behind him was reaching for his hand-cuffs, and was about to say something when the sound of a gun-shot filled the night. The cop in front of him keeled over, and Dean saw the shape of a tranq-dart in silhouetted in the night, sticking out of the man's neck. The second cop pulled out his revolver, but a second shot echoed through the night and the second cop fell beside his partner.

Dean looked around, trying to catch sight of whoever had done that before they got him too. He caught sight of someone, almost hidden, on the rooftop of the building opposite the shop he had just come out of.

At that exact moment, his cell phone rang. It startled him, and he jumped about a foot in the air before he recovered, and then quickly answered it, never taking his eyes of the figure watching him.

"_Get back inside,_" the voice coming from the phone was young, and female. "_Your brother needs you._"

"What?" Dean's eyes left the figure for a second as he turned to look back in the shop. There was a click as the woman hung up on her end. With a frustrated sigh, he looked back at the rooftop, and saw – no one. It was as if the figure – whom Dean now guessed was who ever had called him – had never been there. He shook his head, and then turned and ran into the shop.

* * *

She closed her cell phone with a snap as the young man turned to look into the shop. As soon as his eyes were off her, she turned and ran, leaping off the edge of the building, and landing lightly on her feet, dropping into a roll to avoid putting the pressure of the fall onto her legs.

She walked slowly and quietly to the corner peeking around just in time to see Dean turn and sprint back into the pawnbrokers shop. "I hope you're as good as your father made you out to be." She said softly.

Barely a minute later, the sound of a mirror shattering was heard, and just a few minutes after that, she heard the screams of Bloody Mary as her own acts of punishment were turned against her.

The young woman smiled as she watched the brothers come out of the shop, both of them bleeding from there eyes. She gave a start, gasping almost loud enough for the brothers to hear. Why had Dean been affected? Bloody Mary only punished killers, or at least people who had a secret connected with the death of an innocent. She frowned, not expecting this new development.

"What are you hiding, Dean?" She said softly, her eyes narrowing. She walked slowly around the corner, keeping to the shadows to avoid being seen by the brothers. She couldn't let her cover be blown, not yet. But she needed to get a closer look, to implant the images of their faces in her mind so that she would recognize them on sight from now on.

She got a good look at both their faces, even with the dried blood under their eyes, and, after a few minutes of indecision on what to do next, she finally decided to head back to the motel she was staying at and see what she could find out about Dean Winchester. With a nod of satisfaction, she wiped the trickles of blood from under her eyes, and turned and sprinted down the alley. With expert skill, she leapt at the wall at such a speed that he feet barely touched it as she ran, giving the impression that she actually ran up the vertical wall. She reached the top with ease, and dropped lightly onto the other side, leaving the Winchester brothers behind her. For now.

* * *

Now that the whole Bloody Mary fiasco was over, Dean had time to stop and think about who exactly it could have been who had saved him. If that was what they had been trying to do. For all he knew, it could've been someone hoping he'd go back in there and get himself killed.

He did a lot of thinking while he was driving. Sam was his usual quiet self, so he didn't have to worry about being interrupted. Unfortunately, his thoughts were constantly interrupted by worry about Sam himself. He still refused to tell Dean what it was the Bloody Mary had dredged up out of the past concerning Jessica's death, and it annoyed Dean to no end that his brother was being so damn stubborn about keeping it a secret.

Dean looked over at his brother for a second, and saw that Sam's eyes had drifted shut, and he was now in a deep, and for once peaceful, sleep. With a reluctant smile, Dean turned his attention back to the road. Though he would never admit it, he was happy that his brother was finding peace in his sleep again. Over the past month or so, he had begun to worry that the dreams of Jessica would end up driving his brother over the edge. But maybe after facing Bloody Mary, Sam had finally come to terms with his girlfriend's death.

The drive was reasonably peaceful as Dean continued to ponder the identity of his 'rescuer' until his cell phone gave a sudden beep, indicating a test message. He grabbed it off the dash board as Sam was jerked awake beside him from the noise.

"Look at that for me, will you Sammy." Dean said, handing his brother the phone as he tried to wipe sleep from his eyes.

"It's Sam," was the response as Sam took the phone. "You are not going to believe this." He said, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his seat.

"What?" Dean asked. "What is it?"

"Someone, and it doesn't say who, has sent us coordinate via a text message." Sam answered. He turned the phone off, put it back on the dashboard, and then pulled out a map. He was trying to find the place the coordinates pointed to.

"Whoa, since when are you so eager to follow dad's instructions?" Dean asked, keeping one eye on the road and the other on Sam.

"It's just… the coordinates, they're familiar." His eyes fell on the coordinates. It couldn't be possible. Their dad couldn't send them there, not now, not so soon.

"Something wrong, Sammy?" Dean asked. To his surprise, Sam did not correct him. He looked away from the road and his eyes flicked down the page, going back to the road every few seconds. Thankfully, it was reasonably long, straight, and empty. One name jumped out at him. "Stanford." He said. _Where Jess died._ He thought to himself. No wonder Sam was suddenly a lot quieter then he had been, and he _had been_ very quiet.

Dean sighed and pulled the car over. When Sam gave him a questioning look, he returned it with one of his own. "Are we going?" He asked. Sam shrugged.

"Dad sent us coordinates. That means someone there needs help." He said. "Doesn't mean I have to like it though." He said, turning to look his brother in the eyes. With a nod, Dean turned the car back on, put it in gear, and drove back onto the road.

"Okay, Stanford, here we come." He said. Beside him, Sam closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. But he was afraid of what awaited him there.

**

* * *

A/N: Okay, I apologize if anyone or everyone thinks this chapter is really short. But, hey, it's the prologue, it's allowed to be short. I think. Anyway, I'll try and make Chapter 1 longer. Reviews and constructive criticism are both welcome, as they both motivate me to write more, and work harder to make the story better.**


	2. The Dreams In Which I'm Dying

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I do own the woman that is following Sam and Dean, and, so far as I know, the creature that's killing people. Also, the title of this chapter was inspired by a line from the song 'Mad World' by Gary Jules.

Review Answers:

LilCruelAngel – Thanks, considering that was only the prologue that means a great deal. Here's the update you requested. Hope I got it up quick enough.

Modern-Insomniac1138 – Thanks, here's some more for you to read.

Ghostwriter – Finally, someone mentions my mysterious person. You'll get a bit of a clue as to who she is (or at least, what she's doing) in this chapter, but you won't find out her actual identity for a couple of chapters yet.

Chapter 1 – The Dreams in Which I'm Dying

_He leaned back contentedly against the pillows, inhaling and exhaling in a relaxed way, happy to be home again. He was just starting to doze off when something splattered on his forehead. He furrowed his brow, reaching up to wipe it away, and another droplet splattered on his hand. Confused, he opened his eyes, hearing a sharp intake of breath._

"_Why Sam?" His eyes widened as Jess stared down at him, blood dripping from her abdomen where something held her body against the ceiling._

"_No!" Sam shouted, trying to pull himself to his feet. Something held him down; fear. He couldn't move. He was too afraid of the fire that had taken his mother. Too afraid to help the one person that meant more to him then his family._

_Flames erupted around Jess, and all he could do was lay there and watch it happen._

"_Why Sam? She repeated in that echoing voice. "Sam…" He looked over, and saw someone else. She was the same height and age as Jess, with long blond hair and pale grey-blue eyes. "Sam, help me!" She called. Fire erupted beneath her just as it had Jess. She screamed in pain, something Jess had never done. And all Sam could do was watch._

"Sam, wake up." Sam's eyes snapped open at his brother's voice. He looked over and saw his brother looking in through the window. "I said, could you go pay for the fuel?" He said, and Sam saw that they were at a gas station, and Dean was refueling the car.

"Yeah, sure." Sam said, trying to shake the nightmare from his head. He had hoped that now that someone knew about the nightmares (even though that someone had been an angry spirit that they had vanquished), they would stop.

Then again, this was not the same nightmare that had plagued him since before Jess's death. At least, in the beginning there had never been a second woman. So why was there one now?

"Sam." Dean said from outside the car. "You going or what?"

"What?" Sam said. Then he shook his head. "Yeah, I'm going, I'm going." He said irritably. He undid his seat belt and opened the car door, climbing out.

He went into the main building of the gas station, paid for the fuel, and was just turning to leave when his eyes fell on a young woman standing near the door, flipping through a magazine as she waited in the line that had built up rather quickly behind Sam. She was dressed in a black tank top, with tight black leather pants and long black gloves. Her jet black hair was tied back in a pony-tail and black sunglasses were hiding her eyes. Something about her was familiar to Sam, but as he walked up to her to get a closer look, she looked up from the magazine. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, and she dropped the magazine back into the rack and turned, sprinting out through the sliding doors rather hurriedly.

"No, wait." Sam said, running after her. As he got outside he looked left and right to see what direction she had gone. He frowned when he couldn't see any sign of her. It was like she had just disappeared.

"Hey, Sam." Dean called. It didn't get through to him until the shout was followed by the sound of a car horn honking rather loudly. He gave a startled shudder, and looked around to see Dean waiting impatiently in the driver's seat of his Impala. "You just gonna stand there all day?" He called. Still frowning, Sam shook his head and walked over to the car, climbing into the passenger's seat and pulling the door shut.

* * *

Mentally kicking herself, she ran as fast as she could around the corner and out of sight of the front door. Once she was sure Sam wasn't following, she stopped and turned around just in time to see the Impala pull out onto the road. With a sigh of relief, she leaned against the wall. How could she have been so careless? Just a few more seconds and he would have been close enough to recognize her. 

She turned back to the spot where the Impala had been, wondering not for the first time why she was following them. From what she'd seen, and from what she'd read, they were doing perfectly well on there own. So why, all of a sudden, did they need her help?

She waited for a few minutes, until she was absolutely sure they were not coming back for any reason. If they found out about her before she was ready, there would be hell to pay.

Grumbling under her breath, she walked back around the corner, and went back inside to pay for the fuel. Then she went back to her car, jumped into the driver's seat, and pulled out onto the road. She couldn't let them find her, but for the same reason she couldn't lose their trail.

* * *

Some people say that dreams are nothing but your sleep's imagination. Others believe that when a person dreams they are defragging their brain, much a person defrags a computer, cleaning up everything, getting rid of unwanted issues. 

The creature that stood waiting for her to sleep knew they were so much more. The dreams that humans had were its playgrounds. It could go there and have fun doing what it liked to do best: killing.

Some people believe that small fragments of a dream can affect you in your waking hours, but it could be so much more then that if you knew how best to manipulate the world of dreams. The creature knew how to do this; and it could use this power to haunt people's dreams, to manipulate them, and to kill them when it was done.

But it didn't just _want_ to do this. It _needed_ to do it, like human's needed to eat. The dreams of the dying were what it hungered for, and it was satisfied each and every night by the almost endless supply of college students that flocked to Stanford in search of 'education' and 'knowledge' and… 'sex'. It did not understand how college could lead to sex, but then, it tried not to think too hard on human behavior. All that mattered was the kill.

When she finally gave in to the weariness that had been trailing her all day, it was there waiting for her. The dream started off on a large field of some sort, with white frames at either end where people were kicking a semi-round ball to each other.

But then the creature wove its magic on the dream, changing it. Suddenly the girl was in her own room, but it was different, somehow. Not quite right. The creature smiled under its hood as it watched her trying to make sense of the dream. Thanks to the creature, she was fully aware of everything that was going on. She was no longer in the dreaming state that she had been just seconds earlier, and that was one of the necessities for the kill. The victim had to be alive in the dream. They had to actually live in it to be affected by it when waking.

Slowly, ever so slowly, it crept forward, watching her breathing, watching her every movement. It had to catch her right before it hit her with her worst nightmare, or it would not be as sweet. It would not have that trickle of horror each of them felt right before the killing blow was made, whether it be a knife, a snake bite, the plunge off a twelve story building. None of that mattered; all that mattered was that they felt fear right before it did happened.

She turned around, and shattered the eerie silence with an ear-splitting, horror-filled scream. She did not see a black shape hidden by a hooded cloak. She saw a madman with a knife poised to stab her in the chest. She backed away from it as it came closer, screaming again and again, barely taking enough time to breathe.

The creature laughed as the girl realized suddenly that she had been backed up against a wall. With sudden and swift movement, it struck, three short stabs on top of each other, making a direct hit to her heart each time.

* * *

Dean drove the Impala into the motel parking lot, parking near the entrance. He climbed out of the car and headed inside while Sam collected what they would need in the room from the back seat of the car. 

The clerk looked up as Dean walked in, rolled his eyes, and looked back down at the magazine he was reading. Dean ignored the process, walking right up to the front desk.

"Do you have any two-bed rooms?" He asked pleasantly. The clerk looked up at him again, murmured something under his breath, and then pulled a key out of one of the drawers of his desk, tossing it to Dean.

"Thirty bucks." He said.

"Right," Dean said, taking some money out of his wallet, handed it to the man, and then turned and nodded to Sam, who was waiting at the car with the gear. "Thanks." He said to the man, and then led his brother to their room after a quick glance at the number on the key label.

"Pleasant fellow," Dean said as they reached their room a minute later. "Could say a few more words to his customers once in a while, but still…" He pushed the key into the door and turned it, pushing the door open. They walked in. "I take it back, he's a dirty cheat who belongs in Hell." He said. To say that the room was disappointing would be an understatement. The wallpaper was faded and cracked, the carpet was lifting in several places, the beds left a lot to be desired, not to mention the fact that the room was barely large enough to hold the two beds, the tiny kitchen and the television cabinet set up on the back wall.

"Hey, it's better then sleeping in the car," Sam said, looking around. "Sort of. We can stretch our legs, at least." Dean looked at Sam for a minute, then shrugged and took his bag from his younger brother, walking over and dumping it on his bed. Sam dropped his own pack on his bed, and then took out the laptop.

"If we're going to stay here, we might as well find out why." He said, hitting a button and turning the laptop on.

"Right." Dean said. After a minute of glaring around the room in disgust, he grabbed the TV remote off the cabinet, pushed his bag off his bed, laid down, and began channel surfing, looking for something decent to watch.

After about ten minutes, Sam spoke up, "I think I've found something," he said. "About a week ago, it says a student at the university was found dead, says he was shot in the heart by a sniper rifle."

"So, how does that make it one of ours?" Dean asked, not showing much interest.

"Well, there was no entry wound, no exit wound, and no bullet." Dean looked up as Sam said this. "And the next day they found a girl, her bones were crushed like she had been buried alive in an earthquake. Not a mark on her body. And the day after that, another died of snake venom, no bite mark. The list goes on right up until last night. Though it's possible they just haven't found anyone yet." Sam looked up from the computer, fear of being back at Stanford replaced by the excitement of the hunt. "I think it's safe to say we're dealing with something of ours." He said. Dean nodded.

"Okay, so something's killing people by… what, getting into the body and killing them from the inside?" He asked. Sam opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, looking back at the screen.

"I don't know, it's possible I suppose." He said. "Check dad's journal, see if there's anything in there about this sort of thing." Dean nodded, reaching over to his own bag and pulling an assortment of clothes out of it until he came to the leather bound journal their father had been writing in since their mother's death.

"You see what you can find out about these people, see if there's any kind of connection between them." He said as he began flicking through the journal, searching for anything that might hint to what they were dealing with.

* * *

**A/N**: So, that's the next chapter up. I should have the next chapter up within a week, hopefully within a couple of days. 


	3. Dreamer Unmasked

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own (as far as I know) Professor James Larry. Unless there is someone at Stanford University named James Larry, in which case this is merely fictional and I do not own him in any way. I also own Igor (in name only) and Summer Vegar.

Author's Note: Woohoo, two chapters in less then six hours. Let's see how quickly I can get the next one up. And supernaturalfan0718, while I am pleased you've added this fanfic to your favorites and your alerts, would it hurt to send me one little, itty-bitty review? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it might motivate me to write faster.

Chapter 2 – Dreamer Unmasked

Three hours later, and neither brother could find anything, except that each of the victims had gone to Stanford University at some point or another.

"So, what, is it just killing of students randomly?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged. "I don't know. But whether it is or it isn't, we've got to find it, and we've got to kill it." He said. Dean looked over at his brother with a mixture of surprise and curiosity on his face.

"Well, this is a nice change of attitude." He said. "What changed your mind about being here?"

"Nothing," Sam said. "I'm still a little uncomfortable about being back here. But if this thing is killing off students at the University, then my friends are going to be in danger."

"Friends?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah," Sam said. He gave his brother a puzzled look. "What, you thought I spent the entire time studying and going to class?"

"Uh… yeah." Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes, turning back to the laptop.

"Our one problem is that we have no way of figuring out who its next victim will be." He said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say they _were_ just completely random."

"What makes you think you know better?" Dean asked.

"Nothing, really, just this feeling I have." He continued typing on the laptop. "Hmmm… here's something I didn't see before." He said, turning the laptop around so Dean could see. "All of the students that were killed were attending this Psychology class, taught by Professor James Larry. There's even a man who was taught by Professor Larry about twenty years ago who was killed by this thing." He looked thoughtfully at his brother.

"You think maybe we've got a demonic teacher in our midst?" Dean asked.

"Could be." Sam said, nodding.

"Well, I think it's time we take a look around, Sammy." Dean said. He looked around the room in disgust once more. "It'll be nice to get out of this room for a while."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's Sam." He corrected. "Let's go." He said, grabbing his jacket off the bed. Dean followed suit, and they headed back out of the hotel room.

They had just gotten out to the car when the sounds of sirens reached their ears. Dean exchanged a look with his brother, and they both jumped into the car, pulled on seatbelts, and the Impala roared out of the parking lot in the direction of the wailing sirens.

While Dean was driving, Sam was rifling through the assortment of fake IDs Dean and he had acquired over the past month or so. He eventually came across two they hadn't used in a while, and handed Dean's over while he replaced the real ID in his wallet with the fake one.

"Detective Jakobs?" Dean complained, taking his eyes off the road for a fraction of a second to scan the ID. "Man, that isn't even a good picture of me." He added, shooting a second glance at the ID.

"Live with it." Sam said, absently staring out at the passing scenery. It wasn't anything spectacular. Houses, trees, the odd store or two. He turned back to his brother. "You were the one who had them made; you've got no one to blame but yourself." He shocked himself along with Dean at how much he had just sounded like their father.

"Here we are." Dean said, trying to ignore the feeling of suddenly being twelve-years-old again, getting a lecture from their father about forgetting to load his gun with the proper bullets or whatever.

"Right, let's go." Sam said, unhooking his seat belt and climbing out of the car with Dean trailing along behind him.

About halfway to the door, they were stopped by a burly looking police officer who looked like he belonged on his couch watching the football, not wearing a police uniform and keeping a couple of young men off a crime scene. With a sigh, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, showing the officer his ID.

"I'm Detective Simon, this is Detective Jakobs." He said. "We were driving through town when heard the sirens. We thought maybe we could give a helping hand." He looked the guy in the eyes, trying to see if he would believe their story. After a minute, he nodded.

"Nice of you to offer," He said, "we could use all the help we can get." He gestured for them to follow him inside, sending one of the younger men out to keep out any nosy neighbours or reporters. "You may have heard that this isn't the first victim."

Sam nodded. "Rumours, mostly, but they're saying that their victims show no external signs of injury."

It was the officer's turn to nod. "That's the gist of it." He said. "We're yet to find out how this girl died, but there's not a mark anywhere on her body to suggest foul play."

"Any idea who's behind these deaths?" Dean asked from behind Sam. The officer shook his head.

"No, not a one." He said. "I can't think of anyone who could do such a thing. Did you hear about the guy who was burned alive? His internal organs and bones had practically been burned to a crisp, but if not for the autopsy we never would've known." He shuddered. "Can you imagine, being burned alive from the inside out? It must've been horrible."

"Can we see the body?" Sam asked. The officer nodded, gesturing to a door to their left.

"I can't go in there. Too horrible to think about." He shook his head, wandering off, muttering under his breath about how horrible it must've been. Giving Sam a mock-scared look, Dean pushed the door open and looked in.

A girl in her early twenties was lying on her bed as if she had simply fallen asleep and not woken up again.

"Any ideas?" Dean asked, fishing through the pockets of his jacket for the EMF reader he'd built a few months before meeting up with Sam again. He flicked a switch and turned it on. They waited patiently for a few moments before deciding that the device was not going to pick anything up.

"So, where does this leave us?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

"I don't know." He said. "I guess we go have a chat with Professor Larry, see if we can find out anything."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were in the office of a man in his mid-to-late sixties. He looked kindly at the two boys over his glasses, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

"Absolutely dreadful." He said, after the Sam finished describing the girl to him. "Her name was Alexis. She was one of my brightest students, had a lot of potential."

"Professor Larry, all of the people that were killed have attended your psychology class at one time or another," Sam said, "We were wondering if you'd noticed anybody behaving strangely in your class lately?"

Professor Larry's eyebrows rose. "You think one of my students could be behind this?" He asked, the shock evident in his voice. Sam nodded.

"And they all seem to have been taught in by you as well. Even Mr. Vegar, you taught him about twenty years ago, do you remember?" Sam asked. Professor Larry leaned back in his chair for a minute, thinking.

"Yes, yes I do remember. Igor Vegar, wasn't it?" He asked. He nodded past them to the girl that was busy stacking the shelves at the back of the classroom. She looked over her shoulders at them. There were dark circles around her eyes, and the eyes themselves seemed to hold years of pain and sadness as she looked at the two men sitting in front of her teacher. "Summer Vegar," Professor Larry explained. "Igor's niece. And one of my most prized pupils. She shows more potential then most of the other students put together. A pity she spends most of her time trying to learn to dance; she could make a very good psychologist if she'd only spend a little more time studying for it. Not to mention most of the other dance students across town treat her like second class because of her injury." He stopped, suddenly wondering if he'd said too much.

"What injury?" Sam asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Professor Larry looked the two boys up and down for a minute, and then nodded, seeming to come to a decision of some sort. "Summer broke her ankle when she was fourteen; people said that her father had something to do with it –he wasn't a very nice man, I'm afraid- and that was why it took so long for her to get it seen to. By the time they did, the damage was too extensive to ever fully recover, the doctors said." He leaned forward again with a sigh, finishing his short tale. He looked at the two "detectives" closely. "Do you think she might be in danger? If this killer is targeting my students?"

"It's highly possible." Dean said, leaning back in his chair. He looked over at Sam, who seemed to be deep in thought. After a minute, Sam muttered something under his breath, just out of Dean's hearing range.

"Sorry son, what was that?" Professor Larry leaned forward. "I'm afraid my old ears aren't as good as they used to be." He said. Sam bit his lip, and repeated the word he had muttered.

"_Christo_." There was a crash behind them, and Dean and Sam looked over their shoulders, eyes wide as they saw Summer Vegar shooting a nervous look around the room before setting about collecting the books she had dropped the instant Sam had said that word.

The boys exchanged a look, and then turned to look at Professor Larry, who was shaking his head, apparently oblivious to what Sam had said.

"Poor girl, been on edge ever since her uncle's death," he said, "I can't imagine what it must be like to lose a family member; I heard they were very close."

"Yes, well, I think we've gotten all we came her looking for." Dean said, getting to his feet. "Thank you for your help, Professor Larry. We'll be in touch if we come up with anything new concerning your students." And with that, the brothers made a hasty exit from the classroom.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we've found our killer." He said as they hurried down the stairs. "What made you think of using God's name?" He asked.

"Well, most evil creatures flinch at the name of God." Sam answered. "I figured it would be a quick way to find out if Professor Larry was all that he seemed to be. I didn't expect to unmask someone else."

"Yeah, well, we need to find out how this chick is killing these people, and then we need to figure out how to stop her." Dean said as they reached the front doors of the university.

"Two problems. One: we have no idea where she lives. Two: We have no idea _what_ she is." Sam said, opening the car door. "If we're going to stop her, that's one thing we definitely need to know before we break down her front door and try to kill her."

"That's what I've got you for." Dean said. "Time to do what you do best, Sammy."

Sam's eyebrow twitched. "It's Sam." He said. It was almost automatic to answer the name "Sammy" with those words now. He thought he might just die of shock if Dean ever intentionally called him Sam without panic in his voice. "What is it I do best?" He asked hesitantly.

Dean cocked a grin at his brother. "Research." He said. "While I go find a nicer place to stay." Sam smiled and shook his head as he realized Dean was driving them to the public library that was actually only a two minute walk from the University itself.

"I'll see you again in a few hours." Dean said as Sam climbed out of the car. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove off in the direction of the hotel.

* * *

Sam had spent the past two hours going through every book he could find on demons, spirits, shadows, and any other sort of creature he could think of that had any possible connection to the killings that had been happening. He was just about to take a break, maybe go see if there was a café nearby, when he found something. 

_Dream Leapers_

_Possibly one of the most fascinating of shadow demons, a Dream Leaper remains in shadow form until is has taken possession of a human body, at which point it forms an almost symbiotic link with it's host, using the hosts secret fears and hates to choose it's victims._

_The Dream Leaper, as it's name suggests, kills it's victims by projecting itself into the dreams of it's victims, and bringing them to life inside their own subconscious, where it then kills then by turning their worst nightmares loose on them._

_Due to the fact the damage is caused in a dream, the victim bares no external evidence of their death, but most often show twice as much damage then normal concerning internal injuries._

All the pieces had suddenly fallen into place. The fact that the girl, and probably all the victims, had been found as if they had simply fallen asleep. The lack of external signs of injuries. And it said that the demon chose its victims based on it's hosts secret fears and hates. If Summer was being treated badly in the dance classes, she was bound to have a few people she wished punished.

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, filtering through the list of numbers until he reached Dean's mobile. He hit the dial button, and waited for his brother to pick up.

"_Sammy, that you?_" Dean said as he answered the phone.

"It's Sam." Answered the younger Winchester. "I think I've found out what our demon is." He said.

"_Yeah, what've we got?_" Dean asked.

"They're called Dream Leapers." Sam explained quietly, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "They kill people by projecting themselves into their victims' dreams and then bringing their nightmares to life. They also choose their victims based on their host's thoughts, which means all of this one's victims must all be connected to Summer."

"_Great, so if Summer works out that you were the one who disrupted her spring cleaning this afternoon, we're both going to have to live on coffee until we get rid of her._" Dean said.

"I'm afraid so." Sam said. "Unfortunately, it doesn't say how to get rid of them. Can you take a look at Dad's journal before you come back; see if you can find anything on Dream Leapers."

"_Will do._" Dean said. "_I should be back there in about ten… fifteen minutes, tops._" He said.

"Okay, I'll see you then." Sam said, he pulled the mobile away from his ear and hit the end button, sliding the mobile back into his pocket.

* * *

"_Okay, I'll see you then._" Came Sam's answer, and then he cut the line. Dean sighed as he closed his mobile and dropped it into his jacket pocket. He leaned over and pulled opened his bag he had just spent ten minutes packing after finding a better place to stay for the next couple of nights, pulling out the clothes and assorted weapons. He pulled out the journal when he finally found it, and began flicking through it, hoping to find anything on Dream Leapers. 

"He's going to have to walk home." Dean spun around, and there stood Summer Vegar, glaring daggers at him. Dean's hand shot out for one of the pistols he'd tossed carelessly onto the bed, but with inhuman speed and reflexes, Summer threw herself forward, spinning around and landing a kick against Dean's chest, throwing him backwards against the wall.

He had just enough time to see her land lightly on her feet in front of him before unconsciousness took over and he slumped into darkness, blood trickling from a small wound in the back of his head.

* * *

**A/N**: My first cliffhanger. What did you guys think? Please let me know via review, any and all (except flames) are appreciated. Also, I should probably add that Dream Leapers were not my idea originally, technically. They are based on a guy from an episode in Charmed called the Dream Sorcerer, who killed women by pushing them off twleve story buildings in their dreams. So, now you know, how do you think I did putting my own thoughts into it, the result being Summer Vegar and her possesser? 


	4. Facing the Fire

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own Summer Vegar, and the woman that's following Dean and Sam (who is still nameless).

Chapter 3 – Facing the Fire

Ten minutes came and went. Fifteen, Sam headed out the front to wait for his brother. Twenty, he was beginning to get worried. When half an hour came and passed and there was still no sign of Dean, Sam decided it was time he started walking back to the hotel.

It took him another twenty five minutes to get there, and what he found did not help to ease his worries.

The mattress on Dean's bed was half off, the journal lay where it had fallen as if dropped suddenly, landing half-open on the floor. Then there was the small smudge of blood on the faded wallpaper behind on the other side of the bed.

"Dean…" Was all he could choke out as he all but leapt over the bed to examine the blood. There wasn't much to be told from it, except that it had dried, which meant it been at least five minutes ago that Summer (he was guessing it was Summer, who else could it be?) had been here. And then taken his brother.

He gave a startled jump as his mobile beeped, signifying a text message.

He pulled it out of his pocket, still staring absently at the patch of blood, and found another set of coordinates. But these ones were far more specific then the last ones that had led him here. In fact, if he was correct, they might just be a specific property.

"I hope this is what I think it is." Sam thought. He was about to run through the door when something caught his eye: car keys.

Barely two minutes later, Sam roared out of the parking lot in Dean's Impala, praying to whatever God it was that existed that his brother was okay. And that if he was, that he didn't scratch the paint on the car.

Dean's eyes opened wide, followed by a sharp intake a breath. He was sitting in the corner of a reasonably large room. There was a window looking out the front of the house he was in, a small table in one corner with a lamp sitting on it, and a shelf in the corner across from it with toys and stuffed animals lined up along it. And under the window was-

"No…" Dean said suddenly, getting to his feet. "It's not possible." The crib under the window was Sams. Baby Sams, from before their mother had died. Dean was shocked he recognized it, considering he was only four the last time he saw it. He looked around the room. There was nobody there. So, hesitantly, he got to his feet and walked over to the crib. It was empty, but it had the look of use. The covers were wrinkled where a baby should have been, and there was a slight curve in the bottom of the crib where Sam had slept.

For a few seconds, all Dean could do was stare at the crib. Then something happened he had hoped never to experience. A single droplet of blood fell from the somewhere on the ceiling and splattered against his hand. Eyes widening with horror, he hesitantly tore his gaze away from the crib and up to the ceiling.

"No…" He took a step back away from the crib, unable to take his eyes off the form of his brother, blood soaking his stomach where something was holding him against the ceiling. Words sprung soundlessly from Sam's lips, but Dean heard all of them.

_It's your fault._ Dean shook his head, backing further away from the form on the ceiling. _You took me away from Jess, from my normal life. You caused this. _There was anger in Sam's 'voice' and it tore away at Dean's heart.

"No… no… Sam, I'm sorry… I…" He couldn't form the words. What words could be said? It was true; he had pulled Sam out of his normal life to hunt again, and now. And now Sam had paid the price.

_You should have left me alone. _He was shouting now, if that was what it could be called. _Why couldn't you just leave me to be normal? I would've done perfectly fine without you!_

"Sam… I'm-"

_Now you have to live knowing you killed your own brother. _Sam's body erupted into flames right before Dean's eyes. He threw his arms up to shield his face from the heat as the fire moved quickly around the room.

"Argh!" He tripped on something and fell backwards. _Sam, I'm so sorry. _Was his last thought before darkness took him once again.

"It's your fault!" Dean was jerked from his sleep, and his eyes widened as they fell on his father, John Winchester, standing there with a loaded gun in his hand, and a look of anger and disgust on his face.

"Dad? Dad, I-"

"Why did you have to bring him back into it, Dean?" John snapped at his son.

Dean's heart sank into his feet. His father blamed him just like Sam did. Just like he blamed himself. He had hoped… but then again, what good was hope against the truth?

"I… I wanted-"

"You wanted?" John interrupted. "What about what he wanted?" Dean's eyebrows rose. Since when had John defended Sam's choice to go to college? "He would have done perfectly fine without you!" And that was almost exactly what Sam had said. "If you'd only just left him alone, he'd still be alive."

"Wait…" Dean said. His father snarled at him in disgust, raising the gun up, the barrel pointed straight at Dean's head. "You're not real."

"Goodbye, Dean." Said John. Dean pulled himself to his feet.

"Stop playing, Summer!" He shouted, just as John pulled the trigger. Dean's eyes widened as the bullet shot forward. Time seemed to slow down as it came closer. No, wait, it had slowed down. And then the bullet came to a stop barely an inch from his forehead. Laughter echoed in his head, and was pulled from his sleep as a stinging pain hit his cheek.

"Time to wake up!" Summer shouted at him. Dean groaned, his cheek stinging where the twenty-one-year-old had just given him a full-armed slap. She smiled down at him with madness in her eyes, like she hadn't just slapped him across the face. "I'm impressed. No one's been able to fight through their nightmares like that."

"Yeah, well maybe next time you won't try using a family member, it might work out a little better." Dean said. He did a mental check of the situation. His hands were tied behind the back of the (rather uncomfortable) chair he had been seated on, and his ankles were tied to the two front legs of the chair. From what he could tell, the only source of light in the room was the ceiling light, and the tall lamp standing over in the corner. Aside from the chair, the only other furnishing in the room was a single, rather shabby looking bed at the back of the room.

"Hmmm… yes, I suppose I'll have to." Summer said, grinning madly. Then suddenly madness was gone, and replaced by annoyance maybe a hint of fear. "We shouldn't have brought him here. Why did you make me?" She asked, and her voice was weaker then it had been. "I told you, if we don't use him as bait, his brother won't come." She answered herself, her voice strong again. Dean blinked, and it took him a few minutes to remember what Sam had said about the demon. Summer wasn't talking to herself. For the past few minutes, he suspected he'd been talking to the demon, and when her voice had gotten weaker, he suspected that was the real Summer talking.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Dean asked. Summer turned to look at him. "I mean Summer, not the Dream Leaper." Summer, or the demon, hissed at Dean, obviously annoyed at being found out.

"You're talking to her." She said mysteriously. "We are always together. You can't speak to one without the other." Dean rolled his eyes. Two-part demons were always frustrating.

"Okay, let me ask you this, _Summer_." He said, emphasizing her name to annoy the demon. "Professor Larry said you were close to your uncle. So why did you kill him. Or, let the nightmare you're sharing your head with kill him?"

Summer looked away from him for a moment, and sniffled. When she looked back, there was a sly grin on her face, and the madness in her eyes was back.

"We were close to him." She said softly. "Very. But Uncle Igor got too close. He did mean things to Summer, and she didn't like it. So we punished him." She laughed. "It was so much fun watching him burn. He felt the pain he'd caused us ten fold. And he still feels that pain." She leaned forward, the grin getting wider. "Just like your mummy does." She smiled as Dean's heart skipped a beat and he almost forgot to breathe.

"What do you know about my mum?" He demanded.

"We know enough." Summer said. "She burned on that night, burned in the fires of Hell itself. And she continues to burn in that house to this day."

She suddenly looked up, hearing a car pull up out the front of the house. "Sounds like the baby brother has come to your rescue." She looked back at Dean, their faces so close their noses almost touched. "But who will come to _his_ rescue?" She whispered.

"No, leave him alone." Dean said meekly. Summer simply laughed, and stood up straight walking behind Dean. He tried to turn, to see where she was going, but his hands were pulled to tight behind the chair, making it almost impossible to move. "Summer? Summer, leave him alone!" He shouted. He heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and then he was alone.

Sam pulled up out the front of the house the coordinates had led him to. He had no idea how his father could know this was the right place, but if it led him to Dean, he didn't care.

He got out of the car, and quietly crept around to the boot, opening it and lifting the floor up to reveal the compartment underneath where they kept all their weapons. He wasn't exactly sure what it was that would kill a Dream Leaper, but he also had to remember that part of that killer was Summer, a human being. And despite everything his father had tried to teach him, he couldn't bring himself to kill a human being. So instead, he grabbed a few books, and, as quick as he could, flicked through them to the exorcisms, and quickly memorized a few verses, hoping they would be enough. If not, then he was in trouble.

He looked up and down the road. It was late afternoon by now, so not many people were outside. That was good; if it came to a fight, he hoped no one would be around to hear it.

Only a little nervous, he walked up onto the front porch, and turned the door handle. The door came open without protest, and Sam walked through it, hoping against hope he didn't make too much noise when he arrived.

"_Sam…_" He spun around. That had sounded like… but it couldn't be.

"Jess?" He said. There was no answer. Maybe it was just the wind. Shaking his head and now more then a little unnerved, he took another step into the house. He lifted the torch he had brought in from the car, and flicked it on. Every window in the house had been covered, and the light through the door only illuminated so much.

"Hello, Sammy." Sam spun around just in time to see Summer slam the door shut behind him.

"It's Sam!" He shouted. He endured being called that by Dean only because they were brothers, but he'd be damned if he'd let some demonic killer call him that without consequences. He threw the torch at her with all the strength he could muster. With the same inhuman speed and reflexes she had used against Dean, Summer's hand flew up and caught the torch a split second before it his her face. "Now is that any way to treat your hostess?" She asked. She charged at him, fist flying toward his throat, since he was too tall for her to reach his face.

Sam leapt to the side just in time and Summer's fist connected with the wall – and smashed straight through it. Sam's eyes widened as Summer turned to him, anger on her face. "That's going to cost you." She said. She charged forward again, her fist a blur as it shot forward, connecting with Sam's throat. He choked as he staggered backwards, falling to his knees. Summer spun on one foot and slammed her other foot into the side of Sam's head. His ears rang for about a split second as he was thrown sideways into the wall, and then he fell unconscious.

Dean was taking long, deep breaths, having exhausted himself trying to break free. His wrists were bloody messes where the ropes had cut into him every time he'd struggled against them, his arms ached from being stuck in the same position for so long, and his back was going stiff against the straight back of the chair. But that didn't stop him from struggling to look over his shoulder as the door creaked open. He stopped struggling, though, when he felt cold steel against the back of his neck. His breath caught in his throat when the woman standing behind him whispered in his ear.

"I know your secret." She said softly. He blinked, wondering what she was talking about. One thing he was sure of was that this wasn't Summer. "I know the truth that bled from your eyes when _she_ looked at you." Dean's eyes widened at that. He knew who the 'she' was that the woman was referring to: Bloody Mary. But how could she know that? Nobody knew that secret, not even his father. Before he could ask though, the knife was removed, and he felt the ropes around his wrists loosen somewhat. He pulled against them for a few seconds, and he felt them break apart. He spun around, or tried to; his ankles were still tied to the legs of the chair. All he saw was a glimpse of black hair as the woman disappeared out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

"Who says something like that and then runs out on you without even properly helping you? Dean muttered to himself, leaning down and untying the ropes around his ankles.

"Please be alright, Sammy." He said, standing up and running to the door. There was no sign of the woman that had freed him, but he didn't think about her right at that moment. All that mattered was finding Sam.

He searched every floor and room in the house, and came up with three locked rooms. Not a single sound could be heard on the other side of any of them, though that didn't really mean much. So far as he knew, they were both asleep.

He kicked at the first door as hard as he could, and then again when it wouldn't give way. After a few more tries, the hinges broke and the door fell from its frame. Dean's eyes darted around the room, but it was completely empty. With a cry of frustration, he went upstairs to the next room, kicking the door in with only one kick. Again empty.

"Dammit, I don't have time for this." He said, not sure how long it took for Summer to enter other people's dreams. He reached the final door and kicked it open.

_He leaned back contentedly against the pillows, inhaling and exhaling in a relaxed way, happy to be home again. He was just starting to doze off when something splattered on his forehead. He furrowed his brow, reaching up to wipe it away, and another droplet splattered on his hand. Confused, he opened his eyes, hearing a sharp intake of breath._

"_Why Sam?" His eyes widened as Jessica stared down at him, blood dripping from her abdomen where something held her body against the ceiling._

"_No!" Sam shouted, trying to pull himself to his feet. Something held him down; fear. He couldn't move. He was too afraid of the fire that had taken his mother. Too afraid to help the one person that meant more to him then his family._

_Flames erupted around Jessica, and all he could do was lay there and watch it happen._

And then the flames were gone. Jessica was gone. He was alone in the apartment bedroom. And somehow, he knew that this was no longer an ordinary (if they could be called that) nightmare.

"Why Sam?" He spun around. There stood Jessica, a pained expression on her face, and anger in her eyes. "Why did you leave me? When you knew something would happen?" She demanded.

"Jess… I… I had to help my dad. I-"

"And did you?" She cut across him. "No, you still haven't found him. And I'm the one who has to suffer every day because of it. Because you care more about your stupid hunting trips then you did about me!"

"Jess, I'm sorry, I…"

"You killed me." She said, interrupting him again. "You could have stopped it if you'd stayed behind. Instead you went running off with your brother to god-knows-where, and you left me on my own, where that demon killed me."

"I… I didn't want to… I never would have if… Jess, you have to-" He didn't know what to say.

"I don't have to do anything!" She all but shrieked at him. She was suddenly right in front of him, moving at that unnerving speed ghosts sometimes did over short distances. "You left me to die, Sam," she whispered into his ear, "and now you're going to pay for it."

Dean ran to his brother, who had been dumped onto the floor in the middle of the room. Falling to his knees beside his brother, he was relieved to see that Sam was still breathing, though for how long he wasn't sure. He looked around the room. There was just one bed, like in the room he had been in, and there was no sign of Summer. After a few unsuccessful attempts at waking him up, Dean lifted his brother off of the floor and began carrying him over to the bed.

"Oh, Sam, what've you been eating lately?" He groaned under his brother's weight, dumping him unceremoniously onto the bed and collapsing to the ground next to him. After checking once again that Sam was still breathing, he began to wonder what he could do to help him.

"Jess!" Sam cried out in his sleep. "No… please… I didn't…" He fell silent, but there was a look of pain on his face. Dean bit his lower lip, unsure what to do. He remembered hearing somewhere that people who were in comas could still hear what was going on around them. Maybe it would be the same for Sam, since he was technically awake in his subconscious. Maybe if he reminded Sam of some of the other things he'd beaten, he would hear him.

"Sammy… Sam… I don't know if you can hear me." He said. "And if you can't then I'm about to make a huge fool of myself, so you'd better be able to hear me." He took his brother's hand, ignoring the chick-flick moment he was about to create. "Don't let her win. Whatever she's telling you, it's not true." He searched his memories for one of the creatures they had thought since Sam had taken up the hunt again.

"No…" Sam whispered, and there were tears welling up beneath his closed eyes.

"No…" Sam whispered, tears welling up along the rims of his eyes. His back hit the wall as Jess closed the distance between them. "I'm sorry Jess. Please-"

"_You've beaten worse then her before, Sam._" Dean's voice was barely audible to Sam; his fear had wrapped around him like a cocoon, and now it was suffocating him. "_You saved me from the Wendigo; that thing was a hell of a lot scarier then a college student._"

"Lies… don't listen to him Sam." Jess said.

"_And Constance?_" Dean continued. "_The Woman in White that tried to lure you away from Jessica? Would the girl you almost died staying faithful to be doing this to you?" _Somewhere in Sam's mind, that made sense.

"You killed me Sam." Jessica said, a malicious smile contorting her beautiful face into a mask of evil. "I have every right to want to return the favor."

"_The Phantom Traveler._" Sam fought to recognize Dean's voice. "_You saved all those people on the plane by banishing him back to Hell._"

"But I…" Sam gasped; he was almost oblivious to Dean's voice. "I didn't know."  
"Yes you did."Jess snapped, the smile gave way to a snarl that contorted her face further. "You never told me the truth– who you really were." Sam fell to his knees, tears flowing freely from his eyes. And yet, in the back of his mind, something was fighting to break free; there was something familiar about those words. "Those nightmares you'd been having of me dying, screaming, burning– You had them for days before I died."

"_Bloody Mary._" She had said almost exactly that. Sam's eyes widened as he finally broke through.

"You're not real…" Sam whispered.

"You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams." He could hear a hint of worry in the Dream Leaper voice. He was fighting back.

"…you're not Jessica…"

"How could you ignore them like that?" She demanded. "How could you leave me alone to die!"

"I didn't!" Sam shouted. "I left Jessica!" He forced himself to his feet. "You're nothing but a shadow wearing a mask!" He declared. The Dream Leaper blinked once. Twice. Then she screamed, turning away from him, and she faded away.

For a fleeting moment, Sam thought it was over. Surely, it had to be over. Then the room was filled with a manic laugh. And then the room changed.

The crib seemed to rise up out of the floor below the window. It was all the mattered, the only thing that stood out in Sam's memory, and so it was all that appeared. But it was enough to bring the cocoon back tenfold.

"You didn't think that Jessica's blame was all you feared did you, Sammy?" The Dream Leaper said in an amused voice. Sam gritted his teeth; even filled with dread, he was aware enough of himself to remember he despised that nickname. "No, this fear is much deeper then the last. And much more guarded." It was true. No one knew about his fear of this room. About his fear of-

"Fire." The Dream Leaper laughed as she rose from the shadows in the corners of the room, forming into a single, shadow-swathed entity. "Let's see how Dean will guide you out of this one." She said in an amused voice. "Even he can't reach this far into your subconscious."

Twice, the fire had taken someone he loved. He backed away, finding himself once again against a wall, as flames rose from the floor in a tall pillar. Twice Dean had save him, but she was right; Dean could not help him here. No one could reach him here.

"_I can._" Sam's eyes widened in shock as he heard a voice he'd never expected would grace his ears again. And to his shock, the Dream Leaper was pulling back from the flames. That was when he saw it. The vague, almost human shape the fire had assumed, and the shape was turning to face Sam.

As Sam watched with a mixture of surprise and knowing, the flames began to dissipate, and change, falling around the figure's shoulders as they turned to golden-blond hair; dancing along the floor as they changed into a flowing white dress that moved in a non-existent wind; and finally, her face emerged from the flames, and the loving gaze of Jessica Moore fell on Sam's face.

**A/N: So, what did you think? I know, it's my third chapter in just under twenty-four hours, and probably (but not definitely) the last one for a couple of days. Please review, I like to hear what you people think, though I should probably stop updating and give you guys a chance. Oh well, we'll see what happens. **

**Also, I've always liked the way that the ghosts in Supernatural seem to speed up at times, moving much faster then normal. I'm not sure if it's them or just something they do with the camera, but I liked it, so I brought it into my story.**

**And finally, I hope Dean wasn't too out of character in his nightmare. I did my best to keep him in character, please tell me how you think I did with that.**


	5. The Grave is No Bar to My Cell

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, so you think I'd be writing this? No, I'd be somewhere else, writing episodes. So, just to clarify it, I do not own Supernatural. I also do not own the phrase "The Grave is No Bar to My Cell", it is a phrase from the book series the Wheel of Time, and is owned by Robert Jordan. Now, on to what I do own: Summer Vegar/The Dream Leaper, and Haley. Not much. I'll live.

Author's Note: First, I'd like to tell you all that I rewrote the end of the last chapter, starting where Dean gets Sam onto the bed. You might want to read that before reading this chapter, as I decided it would fit into this one more then the original one. Actually, I think that's all I wanted to say.

Chapter 4 – The Grave is No Bar to My Cell

* * *

"Jessica…" What else could he say? The girl he'd loved, the girl that had died before his eyes what seemed like a lifetime ago; and again every time his eyes closed, was standing before him, standing between him and certain death.

"Hello, Sam." She whispered lovingly, a small smile reaching her lips. Her smile faltered slightly as the shadow that was Summer Vegar started to push forward against the radiance that seemed to flow from Jessica's slight form.

"Jess, I-" Sam began.

"Don't, Sam." Jessica interrupted. It sounded more like a plea. "You've spent the last few months holding onto the guilt, onto the pain, that my death caused. It hurts me, Sam. It hurts to know my death is causing you pain. But more then that's it's hurting _you_. It's… killing you."

"But I-"

"No, Sam!" This time her voice was commanding. Still soft, still loving, but with an air of authority in it. "No." She suddenly seemed weary, exhausted. Behind her, Sam could see Summer, the Dream Leaper, regaining her hold on the reality she had created in his mind. And as she grew stronger, Jessica's hold was getting weaker. "We're running out of time. Don't let our last moment together be wasted on this." She took a single step forward, and yet she crossed the distance between them, and was suddenly right in front of him. "It's time to let me go, Sam." She whispered in his ear, and she kissed him lightly on the lips. "It's time to move on." She turned, and was back in the middle of the room where she had first appeared.

Sam's eyes widened as he suddenly realized what was about to happen. "Jess! No-!" He started towards her. Jessica looked over her shoulder for just an instant, and Sam was pushed backwards by some invisible force. The next thing he knew, his crib was moving across the floor. It reached him in seconds and pushed up against him, pinning him to the wall.

"I'm sorry." She said, her voice weak; a single tear trailed down Jessica's cheek, but she was facing the Dream Leaper, and Sam never saw it. "Don't ever forget me." She said. And then she threw herself into the heart of the shadows, flames erupting around her body as she did.

"No-o-o-o-o-o!" The Dream Leaper screamed, her voice jumping back and forth from Summer's light, whispering tone to the low, menacing tone of the demon simultaneously.

"Jess- Jess, don't!" Sam cried, pushing with all his might against the crib. "Please, Jess! Please, I-!" He couldn't stop crying out for her, even though he knew it did no good. Jessica was already gone, her life snuffed out as easily as a candle flame in the breeze. The Dream Leaper was as dead as Jessica, it was just taking longer. Its screams of pain and anger were barely enough to drown out Sam's cries of anguish though. "Please…" He collapsed against the crib, exhaustion finally creeping into him, and then he fell from the dream into sleep.

* * *

"Sammy?" Dean said, shaking his brother. He'd stopped yelling had now fallen into what Dean recognized as ordinary sleep. As soon as he'd seen that, he began trying to wake his brother.

Sam's eyes snapped open, not a sign on his face to show he'd been crying and yelling just a few minutes earlier. Except the tears still streaking his face.

"Jess…" He said softly. His eyes widened, and the tears started anew. Dean wasn't sure what had happened in Sam's dream, but he had a feeling that Jessica somehow factored into it. The real Jessica, not the illusion he was sure Summer – the Dream Leaper – had tried to kill Sam with. "She… she's gone." Sam croaked. "She… let herself… she let it…" He couldn't say it. Jessica had given up her soul to save him. He'd lost her a second time and he hadn't been able to single thing to stop it. "How could she do that!" He yelled to no-one in particular. Grief was giving way to anger that had been far too long suppressed by guilt. Anger at the demon for doing what it had; anger at Dean for taking him away from Jess when she needed him; but most of all anger at himself for letting it happen twice.

"I… I don't know the answer to that, Sam." Dean said. "Not for sure. But maybe it has something to do with you." Sam stopped the angry ranting he'd been doing and turned so that his eyes were locked with Dean's.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice hoarse from the yelling and the crying.

"Well, maybe…" Dean sighed. "Maybe she did it because she loved you." Well, he'd done it. He'd willingly said something loving and emotional, and he didn't have a chance in hell of avoiding a chick flick moment after that. _First and last time,_ he swore to himself.

* * *

She leaned back against her car, her eyes locked on the second story window where she could just make out Sam and Dean locked in a brotherly hug. She had once known the loving touch of a sibling. Once. But that was in the past. Now all there was was her.

Her mobile beeped, signifying a text message. She pulled it out of her pocket and opened the message.

_Haley,_

_While I appreciate you saving Dean, what you did was careless. You should not have spoken to him. What if he'd gotten free before you'd gotten out? How would you have explained what you were doing there?_

_But what's done is done; just remember that you have to be careful. You can't let them find out who you are. Not yet at least. Not until I'm ready. Until then, keep watching them, and only help if they absolutely need it._

It didn't say who it was from, but Haley knew all too well. Sometimes she wished she didn't. But as he had said, what's done is done; no point wishing for what couldn't be.

She would keep following them, as she was told, but she had her own reason now. She knew Dean's secret, but she needed to know the reason; she needed to know his side of the story.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I know, short chapter, I wanted to end it here so the next part of the story could be in a new chapter. I'll try and get the next update within the next week.**


	6. Seeing Double

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own Haley.

Background: This chapter starts when Dean and Sam split up to chase the shape shifter in the episode "Skin". I was originally planning to start at the beginning of the episode, but it just got too difficult working out how I'd make it different to fit into my story, so I thought I'd start where it begins to change instead.

Chapter 5 – Seeing Double

* * *

With some effort, Dean managed to climb out of the sewage line and back onto the sidewalk after Sam. His arm hurt like hell from being slammed into the wall, another thing to add to the list of reasons to kill the shape shifter.

Sam had his hand inside his jacket, obviously not willing to let go of the gun just yet. Dean was not as worried, and slid his own gun into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, looking around for any sign of the shape shifter.

"Alright," Sam said when they found no trace of him, "We'll split up." He concluded. Dean nodded.

"Okay, I'll meet you around the other side." Dean said, gesturing to the cluster of shops and buildings up ahead.

"Right." Sam said, and they ran off in opposite directions.

* * *

Haley opened the door to her car as the brother's split up and, after a second's hesitation, ran off after Dean. He was the one who had been injured, and most likely to be targeted by the shape shifter.

She ran across the park, and watched for a second as Dean ran down into an alley. With a slight sigh, Haley followed him into the alley, reaching down and pulling a dagger-like knife from her belt.

She turned a corner, and stopped, jumping back behind the corner. Dean was in a fight against the same man that she had seen come out of the sewers before them. The man she guessed was the shape shifter.

She could easily see that the shape shifter had an obvious advantage over Dean, even if he'd had two good shoulders. But she could see that he was favouring one, and that was working in the shape shifter's favour.

After less then a minute of exchanging punches, the shape shifter stopped fighting fair and kicked Dean in the groin, then backhanded him so hard across the face, Haley was surprised his neck hadn't snapped. Dean crashed onto the ground unconscious.

The shape shifter looked around to make sure no one had seen what had just happened. Haley ducked behind a dumpster just in time to avoid notice. Once it was sure no one had seen, the shape shifter hauled Dean towards a covered shaft of some sort, and pulled away the cover, and pushed Dean in, then jumped in after him. About a minute later, Dean came back out of the shaft.

No, Haley knew that wasn't Dean. Something about him was… off. The shape shifter must've realized Sam would be waiting for Dean. So he'd taken on Dean's form, and was now going to meet Sam himself. Again, Haley was faced with a decision; protect one brother or save another. Again, she went for the one who was already injured, creeping over to the shaft the shape shifter had once again covered up, taking one last look around, and then climbing in.

It didn't take her long to reach the shape shifter's lair. She just had to follow the putrid trail of vomit-inducing solution that the Shapeshifter left behind every time it changed shape.

It was larger then she had expected; there were various articles of clothing spread across the room, all torn or damaged in some way, not to mention a good few piles of shape shifter skin. Haley tried to avoid looking at those.

_Well, looks like I'll be blowing my cover._ She thought. She felt a tingling in the back of her mind as she stepped toward one of the support beams, the lower half of which was covered with an old sheet of some sort. Over the years she had learned to trust that tingling, that sense of awareness she got sometimes, so she slowly crept up to the beam.

"Dean?" She whispered. She heard a muffled groan from underneath the sheet. Throwing caution to the wind, she sprinted the remaining distance and pulled away the sheet, revealing a semi-conscious Dean. His hands were tied around the other side of the beam, with a second rope wound around his arms and chest, pinning him against the beam. "I think we've been here before." She muttered, running around the other side of the beam and taking out her knife again. She began cutting through the thick rope binding his hands.

"Who… who are you?" Dean asked, still trying to beat back unconsciousness.

"A friend." Haley said, thinking up a quick lie. "I've been doing the same thing you do." Okay, so long as he didn't ask her exactly what that was, it wasn't a full lie. She did hunt evil like them; she just hadn't had a very active role in hunting as of late because she'd been set babysitting duties.

"Ah-huh?" Dean said in a disbelieving tone. "Tell me something I'll believe." Haley came back around, having finished untying his hands, and looked at him over her black sunglasses, giving him an irritated look. He was obviously a lot smarter then he looked.

"The shape shifter's gone after your brother," she said, "He wants to use the two of you to kill Sam's friend." She smiled sweetly at him. "I intend to make sure that doesn't happen."

"How do you intend to do that?" Dean asked as Haley helped him lift the ropes over his shoulders and helped him to his feet.

"By killing that murdering son of a bitch." She said, pulling out a tiny pistol. Actually, it was so tiny it looked like she got it out of a cereal box. The assumption seemed to be visible on Dean's face, because Haley's smile became a little smaller, and she shrugged. "It can hold silver bullets, it's pretty inconspicuous, it works." She said, tucking it back into her belt.

"Did you see where he put my gun?" Dean asked.

"Most likely he took it when he took your jacket." Haley said, eying Dean's muscular arms for a minute. She shook her head, and turned away from him. "Come on, we don't want to be here when he gets back." She said.

"But I thought you said he'd be going after Sam." Dean said.

"He will be." Haley said. "And right now there's nothing we can do about it." Dean looked like he was going to argue, but she continued before he could. "Don't worry; he won't kill him." She'd done some research on this thing. "He needs his victims alive in order to use their skins. Don't ask me why." She added.

Dean still looked like he wanted to argue.

"Dean, we don't have time for this, the shape shifter's will be back any-" She stopped. The tingling again, and it wasn't good this time. Her eyes widened. "Correction; is back." They could both hear the sound of something being dragged along the rough floor of the sewers. Haley scanned the room for somewhere to hide.

"Back in the shaft." She said, pointing to the shaft she had come down through. She grabbed a few piles of clothes, dropped them on the crate Dean had been sitting on, and laid the sheet over it. She looked over her shoulder and saw Dean looking reluctantly at the shaft, throwing glances up the passageway the sounds were coming from. "In!" Haley hissed, pushing him toward the shaft. Dean obviously saw there was no chance of argument, and climbed up into the shaft, followed closely by Haley.

They both climbed up until they were out of sight, and they waited.

After what seemed an eternity, they heard a groan, followed a few second later by the sound of someone getting hit, hard.

"I don't get why we don't just kill it now." Dean whispered down at Haley.

"One: he's a hell of a lot faster then us." Haley muttered. "And two: he wouldn't hesitate to kill Sam if we tried anything. Would you really put your brother at risk like that?" She asked. Dean fell silent at that.

Haley groaned suddenly, putting a hand to her head.

"You okay?" Dean asked, genuine concern in his voice despite the fact he didn't trust this woman as far as she could throw him.

"Yeah… yeah, I'll be… I'll be fine." She said. "It's just a slight migraine." She bit her lower lip, clenching her eyes shut as she pushed the pain to the back of her mind.

Another small eternity later, they heard the ruffle of a second sheet and then the shape shifter leaving. After waiting a few minutes, much to Dean's irritation, they climbed back down, seeing Sam trying to kick the sheet back down off of himself. His eyes fell on Dean as he and Haley climbed out of the shaft, and relief crossed his face, then suspicion when he noticed Haley.

"Who's this?" He all but demanded. Haley couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. Here she was, risking her life to help these two, and all they could show her was distrust and suspicion? She pushed the irritation to the back of her mind along with everything else, save it for a day when she didn't have all the evil in the world to think about.

"She says she's a friend." Dean answered. "I'm still determining if that's true or not," he looked at Haley, both of them temporarily forgetting that Sam was tied to a pole. "She knows a lot about the shape shifter."

"Yeah about that, would you mind, uh, maybe…" Sam nodded over his shoulder.

"Oh, right, sorry." Dean said, running to untie his brother. Haley stood and watched while Dean untied Sam and Sam told them what he knew.

"…and he didn't just look like you, he _was_ you. Or he was becoming you." Sam said, bring his hands around in front of him and rubbing circulation back into them.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked. Haley answered him before Sam could.

"The shape shifter creates… a psychic link, for want of a better term, with his victims. It allows him to download their memories if he chooses to use their skin." She explained. "It's one of the reasons he keeps them alive. The longer he stays in your skin, Dean, the more he's going to learn about you and your family."

"Okay, so we have another reason for killing this guy." Dean said.

"About that… Dean, some of the things he said…" Dean turned to look at Sam, and there was a mixture of curiosity and worry in the younger Winchester's eyes. "Are you angry at me for what I did? For leaving you and Dad?"

Dean seemed startled by the question. "Of course not." He said. "Why would I be angry?" He asked. Haley narrowed her eyes as Sam passed her, that tingling sensation coming back to her, only this time she felt a flash of emotional hurt along with it; she immediately knew Dean was lying about what he'd said. _Why wouldn't he just tell the truth?_ She thought, wondering at the same time why she would think that. What Dean told Sam was no business of hers.

Sam stopped suddenly and turned around. "You never told us your name." He said.

"Haley." Was her response. Sam frowned for a minute, but said nothing more, turning back to the shaft, and following Dean up into it, followed closely by Haley. As she got closer to Sam, she felt another flash, this time she felt fear. Fear of Dean.

"It's definitely your brother." Haley said reassuringly without thinking. Sam shot a puzzled look down at her, and then continued climbing up the shaft.

The alley was eerily silent as they came out, completely empty except for the three of them.

"Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police." Sam said, looking down the alley to the street. Dean grabbed him by the shoulder before he could take a step.

"Whoa, wait, You're gonna put an APB out on me." He said. Sam froze.

"Right," he said, "Sorry." Dean nodded. He look up and down the street as they came out of the alleyway.

"This way." He said, and started running down the street. They'd gone about a dozen feet when Sam stopped, spinning around.

"What?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder as he came to a stop. "Oh, great, where'd she go?" He groaned. Haley was nowhere to be seen.

Sam looked up and down the street looking for some sign of her. "We're just going to have to hope she's neither been caught by the shape shifter, nor in league with him." He concluded when he was sure there was no sign of her.

"Yeah," was all Dean responded with. They started walking down the street again.

* * *

Haley dashed around the corner, running as fast as she could to her car. She was relieved when she saw it still there in one piece. Not that there was any reason it wouldn't be, she'd just had a feeling. Well, that didn't matter; she ran around and opened the trunk of her car, lifting the floor the reveal the hidden compartment where she kept her hunting gear hidden. Then suddenly she stopped. Something was definitely not right.

She took a step back from her car, lowering her sun glasses to get a better look at it. Everything seemed normal, and yet…

And that was when she smelt it. Smoke. She looked in through the back window of the car and saw what looked like the remains of a cigarette standing upright on the back seat. She had just enough time to think then before the smouldering end reached the gasoline that soaked the inside of the car.

"Oh, shit!" She cried. She grabbed what little form the back of the car as she could before the entire car went up in flames. She staggered back from the blaze, realizing suddenly that it was going to attract attention. Tucking the six-inch-bladed knife into her belt and the bottle of holy water into her pocket, Haley turned and ran as fast as she could.

She stopped about six blocks away, leaning down on her knees to catch her breath. Either some really sick kids thought they were playing a joke, or the shape shifter knew she was after it and was trying to get rid of her weapons. Or her. She fingered the knife. Now she had another reason to want to end that shape shifter.

"That was my favourite car." She muttered. Sure it was her only car, but it had been her favourite of the three she'd had and then lost because of this damn job.

"Haley?" She spun around and caught sight of Dean.

"Dean?" She asked. He was alone. "Where's Sam?" She asked.

"'Sam'?" Dean repeated. "He's gone to the car to get some weapons so we can kill that shape shifter."

"Yeah, okay, uh…" A chill went up Haley's spine, and she knew this wasn't Dean Winchester. She reached for the gun tucked into the back pocket of her pants. "About the shape shifter; I know where he is." She pulled the gun out and fired. The shape shifter moved with unexpected speed, twisting out of the way of the bullet at the last second and swinging around with his fist aimed at her face. Haley spun around, dodging the punch and bringing her foot up, kicking the shape shifter in the square of the back. He didn't seem to feel any of it, and he came back around and back-handed the young woman, sending her staggering into the wall.

Haley raised her gun, which she had somehow kept in her hand, and fired it again, missing the shape shifter by inches; her vision was a bit blurred; she must've hit her head against the wall when he'd back handed her.

* * *

Sam rubbed his already sore wrists as the cops removed the hand cuffs. "I told you already, I was taking a walk, and I thought I heard something over by the bushes, and-"

"What about the other man that was with you?" The cop asked.

"He… he was my brother." Sam said. He was trying to stick as close to the truth as possible.

"And what happened to him?"

"He… I don't know, he just ran as soon as he saw the police cars." Sam said. "I tried to tell him to stop, but he jumped the fence." _Sorry, Dean. _He thought. _I guess you'll never be coming back here with that face._

"Ah-ha." The cop said in a disbelieving tone. He was about to say something else when another cop interrupted him.

"We've just had a report. Our suspect has returned to the scene of the crime." She said, poking her head into the room. The one interrogating Sam nodded, and got to his feet.

"Okay, I think we're done." He said to Sam. "Just don't leave town, in case we need you for anymore questioning." Sam got to his feet, and followed the cop out the front of the station. As soon as they were all gone, he looked around for a minute, and was about to head in the direction of Rebecca and Zach's home when he heard someone behind him.

"Good to see my call got through." Sam turned around and saw Haley, smiling sweetly at him.

"_Your_ call?" Sam asked. "Wait, you're the one who called them just now?" He asked.

"Guilty." Haley said, her smile never leaving. "Come on, Dean's waiting for us back at the entrance to the shape shifter's lair." She said, grabbing Sam's hand. He was about to go with her when he realized something.

"I told Dean to meet me at Rebecca's." He said. Haley stopped.

"Whoops." She said, and for a moment her smile faltered. "Look's like I'm guilty of something else." She swung her fist direction at Sam's face, colliding with his jaw and knocking him to the ground. She then kicked him in the stomach as he fell, and spun and backhanded him across the face before he hit the ground, unconscious.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I've finally updated again. I may have updated quicker if I'd gotten a few more reviews, hint, hint. The next update should come within the next couple of weeks, hopefully within the next week. Until then, Cyas.**


	7. Skin Deep

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own Haley.

Author's Note: Wow, I say it may take me a few weeks to update and then I end up updating the next day? I should do this more often. But it was probably just a one time thing. I'll start writing the next chapter right now in case it isn't.

Review Answers: I just realized I haven't answered any reviews in a while.

**Adra** - Well, as you can see, I've kept writing. Here's Chapter 6 for ya.

**POTC-Girl** - Thanks for the two reviews, but I don't see anymore after that. Well, it's four chapters since you've reviewed, maybe I'll get one on this one? Hint, hint.

**Ghostwriter** - Yeah,I always liked that scene with Mary in Home, and I wanted to give Jess the same chance, even though that technically obliterated Jess whistles innocently. Anyway, yes, she is good. Or as good as people in her line of work can be. Which is Sam and Dean's line of work. Which I guess makes her good. So yeah, I'm gonna stop talking now.

**rusho100** - Wow, loooong review. Never gotten a review that long before. Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Now, to answer a few of the things you said. Yes, I've always liked working alternate character's into storylines, and I thought it would be a good... well, can't of what kind of good it would be, but I thought it would be accepted better if she didn't become a main character straight away. I'm glad you like my Sam/Dean relationship, I was worried I wasn't doing well with it. As to your favourite line, I put it there specifically to be laughed at. Of course, you're the first person to comment on it. Now, as to your last one, I have to agree, I think I did rush the last couple of chapters (a little overeager to get Skin out of the way so I can get into my own story ideas), but I tried to slow it down here. I hope I succeeded. And yes, it's still very early, that girls got quite a few skeletons in her closet, and I intend to milk them for all they're worth. I hope. Yes, Sam's in danger, Sam's always the one in danger, I've got to pick on Dean more. And Haley maybe. But it won't be them in the next chapter, I can assure you of that. Here's that next chapter you ordered, would you like some fries with that?

Chapter 6 – Skin Deep

* * *

Haley woke up feeling like she'd been hit by a car. Then she remembered her fight with the shape shifter in the alley. And the fight with 'Sam' after she'd woken up again and he'd tried to force himself on her. She'd guessed almost immediately that he was the shape shifter, and had kicked him in a few choice places before he'd beaten her unconscious again.

"Ugh, I hate shape shifters," She muttered angrily, trying to make sense of her surroundings. "They're all such perverts." She tried to stretch her stiff arms, realized that he hands were tied behind her back, and gave groan as she realized he'd locked her in a closet of some sort.

Her breath quickened as panic began to rise up in her. _Oh, come on, Haley. _She berated herself, trying to keep from hyperventilating. _You've faced some of the scariest demons on earth over the past three years, and you're afraid of being locked in a closet? How pathetic are you?_

"Okay, calm down." She said out loud, slowing her breathing. In, out. In, out. She had to _get_ out. She had a feeling she knew why she hadn't become one of the shape shifter's play things yet. The thought of the shape shifter using her skin to commit his crimes was enough to motivate her to calm down and get out. After a few minutes of struggling, she managed to get a hold on the knot tying the ropes, and after another few minutes of fumbling around with it, managed to loosen it, slipping her hands through the loosened ropes.

"Okay, one crisis over, now to go deal with the other-" She stopped, feeling a flash of fear go through her mind. Not waiting to listen for anyone in the room outside the closet, she eased the doors of the closet open. Brushing a strand of black hair from her face, she sprinted to the half-open door at the other end of the room, and peeked outside.

She saw Dean, or the shape shifter, she was guessing, just finishing tying Sam's hands in front of him, and shoving him up against the lounge he was sitting on. Haley cursed herself for not hiding her weapons better; the shape shifter had taken her knife, gun and holy water as soon as he'd brought her back here. Now she was completely unarmed and she would probably have to fight him again.

"What are you gonna do to me?" Sam breathed, his voice weak. Haley felt that flash of fear again. She crept out of the room and ducked behind the kitchen bench as the shape shifter turned to look at Sam.

"Oh, I'm not gonna do anything." He said, smiling down at Sam like they were talking about football or something. "Dean will, though." Haley reached up and grabbed one of the large kitchen knives from the bench. She wanted to be armed if she had to fight that thing again.

"They'll never catch him." Sam said, confidence that didn't match the situation evident in his voice.

"Oh, doesn't matter." Said the shape shifter, his eyes flashed, becoming a golden-yellow. "Murder in the first of his own brother? He'll be hunted the rest of his life." Haley crept around the bench, holding the knife ready. The shape shifter had a knife of his own now; he was examining it as Haley crept back around, coming behind the lounge while the shape shifter had his back turned. Sam caught sight of her, and she put a finger to her lips, silently asking him to stay quiet. He nodded slowly, his eyes darting to the shape shifter as he eased himself up along the lounge to get near Haley and her large knife. He was almost there when the shape shifter turned.

"Hey!" He shouted. He raised his own knife and threw it as fast as he could, thankfully not fast enough to get either Sam or Haley. The knife sailed between them as Haley jumped to one side and Sam dove off the lounge, and imbedded itself in the wall. Haley responded by throwing her own knife at the shape shifter, hoping to end the fight before it started, without having to get near him.

"Oh, of all the rotten luck…" She muttered. The knife hit the shape shifter handle-first, before falling harmlessly to the ground. She grumbled under her breath, before running at the shape shifter as he bent down to pick up the knife she had thrown at him. She leapt and cleared the last few feet in the air, her foot connecting with the shape shifter's chest and throwing him backwards, while Haley landed gracefully on her feet, knees bent and hand dropping down to grab hold of the knife.

"You know the saying 'Beauty is only skin deep'?" She asked mockingly, spinning the knife in her hand. "Well, in your case, it doesn't even go that deep." She tightened her hold on the knife handle and ran hoping to stab him before he could recover. Not fast enough, she stabbed with the knife, and he caught her arm before the end of the knife could reach his chest.

"Oh, you want to fight me?" Taunted the shape shifter, getting to his feet. "Well, I don't normally hit women, but- oh no, wait, that's a lie." He twisted her arm with ferocity and strength. A whimper escaped Haley's lips as she dropped the knife, and that, with a slight groan of pain, side-flipped to keep up with her arm as the shape shifter continued to twist it. She brought her leg around the back of his, knocking them out from under him. As the shape shifter fell, he threw Haley backwards over the top of him. She crashed onto the table, rolled off, and laid still.

While all this had been happening, Sam had been crawling to the wall where the knife was stuck, and set about cutting himself free. He turned just in time to see Haley sailing across the room, and then he pulled the knife free of the wall, and ran at the shape shifter as he got to his feet.

"Aw, you too little brother?" The shape shifter asked, sounding so much like Dean that Sam faltered for just a second. The shape shifter grinned and ran forward, tackling the younger Winchester to the ground, the knife flying from his weakened grip. "Well, if you insist." He said, punching at Sam's face. Sam blocked the punch, elbowed the shape shifter in the abdomen, and bringing his leg up, bending it around the shape shifter's back, and using him as leverage to flip them over, putting the shape shifter underneath.

"You're good," he taunted, licking his lips. Sam responded by punching him in the jaw. He blinked for a minute, working his jaw for side to side. Then he smiled up at Sam. "I'm better." He returned Sam's punch, causing Sam to lose focus for just a second. That second was all the shape shifter needed as he grabbed Sam by the shoulders pulled his head down, and his own head against his. Sam staggered back, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out in pain, his hand coming up and massaging his forehead where the shape shifter's head had made contact.

Haley was just getting the feeling back in her body when she heard Sam give a groan of pain. She pulled herself into a full state of consciousness, and saw Sam being thrown off of the shape shifter, landing on his back with his hand rubbing his head.

"Oh, why can't either of you ever finish something yourself?" She groaned, getting to her feet. Her eyes looked around the room for something she could use as a weapon.

"And why can't you just stay unconscious for once?" The shape shifter snapped, getting to his feet. He kicked Sam once in the stomach to make sure he didn't interfere, leaving him curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach while still having to deal with a splitting headache as well.

Haley took in long shaky breaths, clutching her own stomach. Being thrown into a table didn't do well for her health.

"Well, this is going to be a lot easier then I thought." The shape shifter said cockily, jumping over the lounge and aiming a kick at Haley's abdomen. She dodged to the side just in time, and the shape shifter landed a little clumsily on the spot where she had been. She threw all her strength into her legs and aimed a kick at his chest. He caught her foot, and flipped her over; she crashed to the floor. With a sigh of frustration and exaggerated effort, the shape shifter leaned down and picked her back up by her hair. She turned her head and looked up at him, her fierce blue eyes like sapphire flames. He pulled her to her feet, and dragged her over to the table. Her eyes fell on the six-inch-bladed knife. And a tiny pistol. Both of which she knew were hers. The shape shifter picked up the knife and pulled her around so that Sam could see them. Her hand reached around to the table.

"Aren't you lucky? You get an audience." He whispered in Haley's ear, the knife edge brushing against her cheek; she could feel the cool steel working it's way along her face, and then coming down to her throat. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

She felt sick. Sam looked up at her from where he was still trying to recover from the kick the shape shifter had given him.

She looked down nervously as the knife edge came closer to her throat. "You don't have to finish this so quickly." She said softly. His grip tightened on her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat more.

"No, I really think I do." Said the shape shifter, pulling the knife back as if he was going to behead her. Haley's hand closed around its target.

"Well, if I can't dissuade you," she said in mock-disappointment, "Allow me to." She fired the pistol, a silver bullet penetrating the shape shifter's thigh. He let out a cry of pain, dropping the knife. Haley's hands came up and tightened around the base of her hair. She pulled forward, the black wig detaching from her scalp, giving way to a cascade of blond hair. Her hands flew out in front of her, breaking her fall as she came to the floor. She brought her foot straight up behind her, and behind the shape shifter, cracking him in the back of the skull. He staggered forwards, limping on his now wounds leg. All this happened in about four seconds, and end as soon as Haley pushed herself back up onto her feet. With a sigh of exhaustion, she collapsed forward, having finally having over-exerted herself.

The door swung open and Dean rushed in. He took in the scene, and then he raised his gun as the shape shifter turned to look at him.

"Bye, bye." Dean said, look of determination on his face. He fired the gun twice, both bullets plunging into the shape shifter's directly in the chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

A ragged looking Rebecca came up behind Dean. She caught sight of Sam and ran to his side.

"Sam, are you okay?" She whispered.

Sam looked up at her, smiling weakly. "I've been better." He gave a light chuckle. Dean looked over at the dead body of the shape shifter, and then caught sight of Haley, and rushed to her side. Sam's chuckle became hollow. _Anything for a cute girl. _He thought. Not that he thought she was cute. He thought she was smug, annoying, and untrustworthy on top of all that. He laid his head back down against the carpeted floor, and only then noticed Haley's blond hair. And suddenly he realized why he'd thought he recognized her back at the gas station; his dream. He had seen Haley in his dream. Why, he had no idea.

And right at that moment, he didn't give a damn. All that mattered to him was that he was alive. That he and his brother had survived yet another job.

* * *

The following morning, Dean stood outside of Rebecca's house examining a map as Sam and Rebecca walked out of the house. He tried not to listen in on their conversation but, well, he was his brother.

"So, this is what you do? You and your brother– you hunt down these kinds of things?" Rebecca asked, turning to look at Sam.

"Yeah," answered Sam, looking down at her, "pretty much."

"I can't believe it." Rebecca said, shaking her head, with a small smile on her face. Dean caught the look of mild relief on Sam's face; it was good that Rebecca could still smile after what was done to her. "I mean, I saw it with my own eyes. And, I mean, does everybody at school—nobody knows that you do this?"

Sam let go of the breath he'd been holding. "No, nobody." He said.

"Did Jessica know?" Rebecca asked.

Sam bit his lower lip, and Dean could see that the subject of Jessica still hurt him. "No," was Sam's answer, "she didn't." Rebecca smiled sadly up at Sam.

"It must be lonely." She said, sympathy evident in her voice. Sam gave a light laugh.

"Oh, no." He said, a smile creeping onto his face. "No, it's not so bad. Anyway, what can I do? It's my family."

Rebecca reached up to hug Sam. "You know, Zack and me, and everybody at school—we really miss you." She said. Sam's smile became sad as he pulled her a little closer.

"Yeah… me too." He said softly. Behind him, the door opened again, and Haley walked out, almost all signs of last night's fight completely gone. She had traded her black clothing for a light green tube-top that didn't quite reach her waist, khaki trousers that reached three quarters of the way down her legs, and a pair of sandals, all of which had been given to her by Rebecca. She'd pulled her long blond hair back in a pony tail, and was now wearing a pair of blue rimmed sunglasses. She pulled them down, looking over the rims. She walked past Sam, a small, triumphant smile on her face, and joined Dean by the car. Sam blinked. "Wait, she's coming with us?"

"Hey, my car was torched by that freak of nature," she said, a little sullenly, "I need some way to get around and…" she smiled up at Dean, "… your brother was kind enough to offer me the back seat of his car." She shrugged in an annoying sort of way and climbed into the back seat. Sam stood there, gaping at the spot where Haley had been standing, then sent an accusing look at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked. "She's saved both our necks more then once, I figured the least we could do was give her a lift." He explained. Sam rolled his eyes, his semi-good mood ruined by their new passenger. He climbed into the front passenger's seat, while Dean walked around to the driver's side, and climbed in.

They'd been driving for about ten minutes when Dean spoke up. "You know, I gotta say– I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it."

"Miss what?" Haley asked, leaning in from the back seat, receiving a slightly annoyed look from Sam.

"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?" All three of them cracked a smile at that, and Sam even gave a small laugh. Haley leaned back into the back seat again.

"Wake me when we reach our destination." She said. "Or the next hotel, whichever comes first." Dean's smile broadened as he glanced into the rear-view mirror and saw Haley leaning against the window as she closed her eyes, though they were once again hidden by sunglasses.

In the back of her mind, she wondered how long they were going to remain accepting of her 'I'm a hunter like you' story. Sooner or later, they were going to start asking questions. She needed time to think what she was going to tell them.

* * *

**A/N: So, what did you think of my first attempt at remaking an episode? I hope it wasn't too lousy; the next episode I do will hopefully start at the beginning (I was thinking probably Home, since Hook Man I have no idea how to work with and… I didn't like Bugs). But I've got a few ideas to use before I get there. In the mean time, more reviews equal a happier author, and a happier author equals faster updates. In other words, more reviews people. BTW, could someone tell me what hits are under the Status section of my story profiles? And any story ideas would be welcome as well. Well, until next time, Cyas.**


	8. Sight Unseen

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own Haley, Stone Gates, Heartsbane, and Father Dime.

Chapter 7 – Sight Unseen

* * *

_He lifted a hand, and Haley, Sam and Dean were all thrown across the alley in different directions, each of them colliding with a wall._

"_I've been waiting for you a long time." He said, that unnerving smile never leaving his face. Dean was the first to recover, pulling himself into a sitting position with his back against the wall._

"_Why?" He managed. "Why have you been waiting for us?" He asked._

"_Oh, not all of you." Was the answer. His gaze locked on Sam. "Just him." He said, pointing at the younger brother. He was so focused on Sam that he didn't see Haley pull out her joke of a gun until she'd aimed and fired, a small piece of rock salt shooting across the alley toward the man. He spun around as the shot was fired and the rock salt collided with his chest, sending him flying backwards and crashing into the wall behind him._

"_How do you like being thrown into a wall?" She asked, climbing to her feet. She brushed blood away from a gash above her left eyebrow, wincing as she touched it. She'd hit the wall face first, and felt lucky she hadn't broken her nose. _

_Her question was simply met with laughter as the priest's body lifted itself off of the ground, setting him on his feet._

"_A lot more then you're going to like this." He lifted both his hands, and fire erupted in front of them. Two jets of fire blasted from his hands, heading straight for Haley._

Sam's eyes snapped open as the car pulled into the motel parking lot. He blinked, taking in quick, shallow breaths.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, parking the car close to the entrance to the motel.

"Sam. And yes, I'm… fine." He said, a little irritably. He couldn't tell him; one of the hardest things in Sam's life, and he had to keep it to himself. Why couldn't he tell him?

_Because he'd freak. _Sam thought. Because of Dean's inability to cope with people with supernatural powers, Sam was being torn apart by visions he had to keep secret. Every nightmare and dream was just another secret, another lie. And Sam was getting sick of it.

He looked out the front window of the car. "I'll get the room." He said, trying to sound as normal as possible. "You can get the gear and… wake Haley." His voice took on a note of… what that? Bitterness? Resentment? He wasn't sure.

"Sure, I guess." Dean said, giving his brother a puzzled look. Sam had not really warmed up to the other hunter during the journey; in truth he hadn't really had a chance, she'd been sleeping on and off since they'd left St Louis, but still. He didn't seem overly pleased that she was with them, but when asked about it, he'd just respond with "What do you mean?" Followed by questioning look that told Dean not to push the matter.

So he let Sam go and get their room while he walked around to the other side of the car and gently woke Haley from her slumber.

She opened her eyes the instant he touched her, hand flying up and grabbing him by the throat. Dean gave a startled gasp; it might have been a yelp if her hand wasn't so tight around his throat. Haley looked as startled as he had almost sounded, and quickly let go of him. "I'm sorry… bad dream." She said apologetically. Dean rubbed his throat, wondering if there was a mark where she had just almost strangled him.

"No problem." He managed. Haley climbed out of the car, seeming a little more distant and docile that she had when they'd left St Louis.

Haley looked along the road, and then turned back to the motel, the only structure visible in her line of sight.

"Where are we?" She asked, feeling a little light headed in all the emptiness.

"The middle of nowhere." Dean said, walking around to the trunk of the car, opening it, and taking out his and Sam's bags, plus Sam's laptop. He tossed Haley Sam's bag, closed the trunk, and the two of them started walking toward the front door of the motel. "Corner of Vast Emptiness and the Gates of Hell." He said with a grin. Haley gave a small smile, but said nothing. Dean frowned. People were supposed to chuckle at his jokes at the very least. It made him wonder if maybe there was something wrong with Haley.

"I'm fine." Haley said absently, seeing Sam at the front desk. Dean stopped. Was she reading his mind? He decided to test it out, and thought about how hot he thought she was. She didn't respond to that.

_Well, I think it's safe to say she can't read minds._ He thought. Maybe she'd just seen the concern on his face. Yeah, that had to be it.

He was so busy following Sam and Haley to the room that he didn't stop to remember that she hadn't been looking at him, at all, before saying she was fine.

* * *

Their room had three beds, a small kitchen, a smaller bathroom, a lounge, a coffee table, and a TV. Haley took the bed closest to the window, Sam got the one in the middle, and Dean claimed the couch and the TV.

Sam sat down on his bed, plugged his laptop into the power point down beside it, and began searching the internet for anything that might be their kind of job. Haley took out her knife and what looked something like a rock, and began sharpening and cleaning the blade on the kitchen bench, while Dean lay sprawled on the lounge, channel surfing.

"Here's something," Sam said after about fifteen minutes. Haley looked up from her knife; Dean grunted to let them know he was listening, though his eyes still seemed glued to the TV. Sam continued, "There's some supposed legend that's come to life in a town called Stone Gates." He said, scanning the newspaper article. "Over the past six weeks, six people have been found murdered… with their heart cut out." Haley frowned, Dean gave another grunt, Sam just continued to read the article. "Heartsbane." He said. Haley blinked.

"What?" She asked.

"Heartsbane, it's the creature, or spirit or whatever, that the people of Stone Gates are blaming for these attacks." He hit a few keys, searching for any information on the supposed legend. "Heartsbane, a legendary spirit-man that stalks his victims for six nights and seven days, before killing them on the seventh night, and cutting out their heart. Then, on the seventh night of the seventh week, he devours all seven hearts, and rises from the spirit world to wreak havoc on the physical plane." Dean sat up, a thoughtful look on his face. Then he stood up and walked over to his bag, rifling through the clothes until he reached his father's journal.

"What?" Sam asked, getting up off the bed.

"I think there's something in here about this Heartsbane." He said, flipping through the pages. "Here." He said. Haley walked over and looked at the journal along with Sam and Dean. "Pretty much the same as you just read out…"

"Except Dad provides us with a way to kill him." Sam said, pointing to the second page. Under a picture of a muscular looking man with a lion-like mane of hair and large claws instead of finger nails, there was a list of ways to kill Heartsbane. It was not a very long list.

"Looks like the easiest way would be the Latin exorcism spell." Dean said.

"Yeah, except read the fine print." Sam pointed to the writing across from it. "It requires that be wholly in physical plane. Which means we'd have to wait for him to devour all seven hearts, which means sacrificing an innocent man or woman to do so."

"Uh… you may not have much choice." Haley said. They both looked over at her, and Sam bit back a few unpleasant words when he saw her sitting in front of his computer. "Did you look at the dates, Sam?" She asked. "The last killing, the sixth killing, happened seven days ago. If this… spirit is what we're dealing with, then we have…" She looked at her watch. "… about four hours to get to Stone Gates and find out who his next victim's going to be, or else they're dead anyway."

They had about ten seconds to register that, then the room was suddenly in motion. Haley set about gathering all their things together; Sam looked up how far away Stone Gates was; and Dean went through the options they had for killing Heartsbane. Within five minutes, they were all ready to leave again. Sam spent another ten minutes explaining to the man at the front desk why they wouldn't be staying the night after all (a very well put together story considering he was making it up as he went along) and then they were on the road again, driving a little faster then the law permitted as they raced to beat the night to Stone Gates.

They made it with about half an hour to spare. Thankfully, Sam had been searching through all the newspaper articles he'd gotten on his computer back at the motel for any hint as to how Heartsbane chose his victims.

"There are a few likenesses between the victims." Sam said. "I think this might be the most important though. All of them are connected to a Father Patrick Dime."

"Connected how?" Haley asked, looking over his shoulder from the back seat. Sam shot a look over his shoulder, before answering her question in a tight voice.

"All six of them are related to him." He said. "Either by blood or marriage, they're all related."

"So you think maybe Heartsbane is targeting his family for some reason?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the road as they sped along.

"It's possible." Sam said. "Which means we have…" He scrolled down the webpage. "A total of eleven possible victims to choose from."

"Any input for this Haley?" Dean asked. Haley seemed deep in thought.

"Maybe." She said. "Sam, pass me your dad's journal." Sam looked over his shoulder at Haley with an indignant look on his face, but after receiving a sharp look from Dean, grabbed the journal off the dashboard and passed it over to Haley. She flicked through it until she found the page she was looking for. She handed it back to Sam, showing him the page.

"Contamination curses?" He asked, looking over his shoulder. Haley nodded.

"Some demons and spirits that specifically target priests use the curses to get to them." She said. "Basically, by taking the life of an innocent related by blood or holy matrimony to a priest, it weakens… God's blessing, for want of a better term. With that blessing gone, a demon would then be able to kill the priest, and-"

"And in doing so, gain immunity to just about any exorcism or object that would banish him." Sam finished. "Great, so are we in agreement that Heartsbane is going after Father Dime?" Haley nodded, as did Dean. "Okay, let's go find him." Sam said as they came into the town.

* * *

They climbed out of the car just as the sun started to dip below the horizon. They had parked across the street from Father Dime's house, and Dean had gone to make sure the good father was home while Haley and Sam, much to Sam's annoyance, were left to assemble what weapons they might need.

Haley took out her bottle of holy water, exchanged the bottle top for a squirt lid, and sprayed every second piece of rock salt Sam handed her with it. He blinked, giving her a puzzled look.

"Just fortifying it." She said. "This doesn't sound like any ordinary spirit, so I'm just making sure that I'm prepared. If he kills the priest and becomes immune to the holy water, then I've still got the normal rock salt to repel him with." She had to grind it a bit to make it fit in her tiny pistol, but once she had, she loaded it, and tucked the rest of it into her pants pockets, the pieces sprayed with holy water in one and the pieces without in another.

"Whatever." Sam said, loading his own gun with rock salt. With a sigh of frustration, Haley turned so she was facing Sam.

"You know, I'm really beginning to think you have a problem with me." She said.

Sam looked like he was going to stay silent for a minute, then he turned so they were facing each other. "Yeah, I don't trust you." He said.

"'You don't trust me'?" She echoed. "I saved your miserable life."

"Well did you ever think that if you hadn't run off in the first place, the shape shifter wouldn't have been able to use your skin, and my life wouldn't have needed saving?" Sam demanded.

"Did you ever consider that there was a reason I left you two?" Haley shot back.

"Hey, you two," Dean was back. "Father Dime's home." He noticed the way the two of them were standing there, neither willing to break eye contact first. "Am I interrupting something?" He asked.

"No." They snapped at the same time, turning back to their work. Haley tucked her gun into the pocket with the normal rock salt, and slid her knife into her belt.

"You know, knives don't normally do anything against spirits." Sam said, not looking at her.

"No, but if this is Heartsbane, and he manages to get completely onto our plane, it will." Haley said, not even glancing at him. Dean looked from Haley, to Sam, and back again.

"Okay, I can see you two have got some issues you need to work through," he concluded, "but right now, we have a job to do. Now, can I rely on you two to back each other up if we get into trouble, or do I have to leave one of you behind?" He asked. Haley and Sam exchanged 'if looks could kill' glares, then turned to Dean.

"We can put our 'issues' as you called them, aside for now." Haley said, before shooting a glance at Sam. "But when this is over, we're going to sit down and talk about exactly why it is you don't trust me." With that, she walked past Dean, around to the front of the car, and sat on the hood of the car, looking up at Father Dime's house.

"You don't trust her?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Later." Sam snapped, walking around the other side of the car and leaning against with his arms on the roof and his chin propped up on his hands. With a sigh, Dean leaned up against the car, and there they waited for some sign that Heartsbane was going to come.

It was about half-past six when something finally happened. Father Dime came out of the house (by that time, they were all back inside the car so as to avoid arousing suspicion), and began walking down the sidewalk. Once he was a safe distance away, the three hunters climbed out of the car and slowly began to follow him on the opposite side of the road.

The followed him for a good fifteen minutes before he finally stopped out the front of an alley.

"Oh, you're kidding?" Haley whispered. "What is it with potential attack victims and dark alleys? They're like magnets." She shook her head. They followed him down the alley and found… nothing. Aside from a dead end and a dumpster.

"We're too late." Haley said softly, looking around.

"Actually," they all spun around to the mouth of the alley, in the direction of the voice. Father Dime was standing there, even though there was no way he could have gotten behind them without them seeing him. His lips curved into a seriously unnerving smile, "you're right on time." He said, taking a step toward them.**

* * *

A/N: Lucky reads, I haven't been able to update (something about request time runnign out everytime I tried to upload the documents), so I've got two updates for you, and another on the way.**


	9. Fire by Moonlight

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own Haley, Stone Gates, Heartsbane, Father Dime.

Chapter 8 – Fire by Moonlight

* * *

"_Actually," they all spun around to the mouth of the alley, in the direction of the voice. Father Dime was standing there, even though there was no way he could have gotten behind them without them seeing him. His lips curved into a seriously unnerving smile, "you're right on time." He said, taking a step toward them._

He lifted a hand, and Haley, Sam and Dean were all thrown across the alley in different directions, each of them colliding with a wall.

"I've been waiting for you a long time." He said, that unnerving smile never leaving his face. Dean was the first to recover, pulling himself into a sitting position with his back against the wall.

"Why?" He managed. "Why have you been waiting for us?" He asked.

"Oh, not all of you." Was the answer. His gaze locked on Sam. "Just him." He said, pointing at the younger brother. He was so focused on Sam that he didn't see Haley pull out her joke of a gun until she'd aimed and fired, a small piece of rock salt shooting across the alley toward the man. He spun around as the shot was fired and the rock salt collided with his chest, sending him flying backwards and crashing into the wall behind him.

"How do you like being thrown into a wall?" She asked, climbing to her feet. She brushed blood away from a gash above her left eyebrow, wincing as she touched it. She'd hit the wall face first, and felt lucky she hadn't broken her nose.

Her question was simply met with laughter as the priest's body lifted itself off of the ground, setting him on his feet.

"A lot more then you're going to like this." He lifted both his hands, and fire erupted in front of them. Two jets of fire blasted from his hands, heading straight for Haley.

Haley cart-wheeled out of the way of the oncoming flames, feeling the intense heat as they blasted into the brick wall behind the spot she had been standing seconds earlier. Dime lowered his hands, and the flames subsided, leaving a large scorch mark on the wall.

"Okay, I'm going to take a chance and say Priests supposed to throw fire from their hands?" She said, backing away from Dime, trying to go in the general direction Dean had been thrown in.

"Not normally, no." Dean said, getting to his feet behind her. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam also getting to his feet, gun in hand.

"Maybe it's because I'm not a normal priest." Dime said. Haley forced a smile, trying to sound and look more confident then she felt as realization dawned on her.

"You worship Heartsbane." She said knowingly. Dime stopped moving towards them, eying the young woman. "What, he's gotten too lazy to go out and take people's hearts himself? He sends minions to do it for him?"

"We do his bidding." Dime said. "He has promised us much in return for so little."

"Oh, yeah, and taking another person's life is so little compared to…" She trailed off, pretending to be deep in thought. "… what exactly?" Haley asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam trying to get out a gun that would prove more effective against people. People who seemed to carry some sort of twisted blessing from an evil spirit. If Dime turned just a fraction he would see Sam. "So, what, you obviously came here for a reason. What was it?" She asked.

"He told me to lure the final Heart away from its protection." Dime said. "And I have succeeded." Haley realized too late what Dime was talking about. The evil priest lifted both his hands as Haley raised her gun, sending both she and Dean spiraling back into the wall. He spun around, just in time to see Sam lift one of his larger guns and fire. Dime moved with unexpected speed, and the bullet just grazed the side of his arm, and kept going.

"Sam, watch your aim!" Haley shouted a second later, as tiny pieces of brick and concrete rained down on her where Sam's stray bullet had hit the wall.

Sam paid no attention to her. His eyes were locked on Dime as the priest circled him, not willing to fire again for fear of missing again and hitting something a little more valuable then a wall.

"You can't kill him, he's not like all the others you've faced." Dime said. "It would be easier for you… and for your brother… if you gave in now."

"No, it'll be easier on you if you leave him alone." Dean was on his feet, gun pointed at Dime. "But since I know you're not going to do that." He fired, and a chunk of rock salt shot toward Dime.

With the slightest of gestures, Dime stopped the rock salt, causing it to fall harmlessly to the ground. "Would you like to try that again?" He asked.

"Okay… Haley, any ideas?" Dean asked. Sam was slowly backing away as Dime's gaze shifted between the three of them, his gun raised but still unwilling to fire it.

"Uh… none jump to mind." She said. "Except maybe one." She reached into her pocket, and threw whatever it was she had pulled out. Like Dean's rock salt, it was stopped just before it hit the Dime, and dropped to the ground. What he obviously hadn't expected was for it to be a small bottle of holy water, and when he let it fall, it smashed, spraying his clothes, and in turn his legs, with the blessed contents.

He gave a gasp of pain, and that was enough of a distraction. Haley and Dean both opened fire on the priest, barely giving him a chance to know what was happening before his body was pelted by different sized chucks of rock salt. He was thrown backwards, landing flat on his back.

"That's not gonna be enough." Haley said, and even as she spoke, Dime was lifted back onto his feet.

Dime brought his hand out, and then pulled it back towards himself. The first gesture pinned Haley and Dean against the wall. The second lifted Sam off the ground and began pulling him towards Dime. What he obviously hadn't counted on was Sam having enough strength to raise his gun. The younger Winchester pulled the trigger, and the bullet tore into Dime's chest.

After all the trouble they'd gone through over the past ten minutes, it seemed almost anticlimactic that it was suddenly over. Dean and Haley were dropped to the ground as Dime burst into flames. It looked as though the 'blessing' that had allowed him to throw fire and shrug of salt gun shots was also going to cause him a very painful death for failing.

His screams echoed through the night as the fire consumed him. And Sam froze up. Fear filled him; he kept seeing Jessica in his mind's eye, burning on the ceiling. He saw his mother, even though he'd been too young to remember what had happened. A small part of him was shocked that he still hadn't gotten over his fear of fire. A large part of him was too terrified to give a damn how long he'd been holding onto. All he could do was stand there, eyes wide with horror.

"Sam, move!" Dean shouted. He suddenly realized what was going to happen to Dime, and he didn't want his brother within range when it happened. He spoke just a few seconds too late though.

With a loud bang, Dime's body exploded in a final burst of flame. Whether he died, or was now in a place far worse then death, Dean didn't know. Nor did he care, watching in horror as his brother was lifted off the ground and hurled backwards by the explosion, crashing to the ground a dozen feet from where he had been standing.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, rushing to his brother's side with Haley right behind him. They were both kneeling beside Sam almost before he hit the ground.

Haley gasped as she caught sight of his face, which was now a mess of angry red burns; the fringe of his hair was singed, and a small part was actually on fire for about a fifteenth of a second before Dean snuffed it out.

"Call an ambulance!" Dean ordered. Haley gave a start, realizing he was talking to her, and then fumbled for her mobile phone in her pocket, taking it out and hurriedly dialing the number, while Dean tried unsuccessfully to wake his unconscious brother. Even as he did, though, they both knew that Sam was not going to be waking up any time soon. He was hurt, and worse, he was terrified.

* * *

**A/N: I know, cliffhanger, you all hate me, tell me in some reviews. **


	10. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own Haley

Author's Note: I just want to say, I no absolutely nothing about how the brain works when it comes to sight, much less how a person could temporarily or permanently lose their sight. Anything I've used in this is put together through half-done research that made next-to-no sense to me, so if it's not even close to how any of it would normally work, you know why.

Chapter 9 – Out of Sight, Out of Mind

* * *

How long had they been waiting? One hour? Two? 

"It's only been about thirty-five minutes." Haley said, checking her watch. She had stitches holding the gash above her eyebrow closed, and she was covered head-to-toe in bruises and scrapes. Aside from that, she was perfectly fine.

Dean, on the other hand, had refused treatment until he was sure Sam was going to be okay. He'd been pacing from one side of the hallway to the other for the past thirty-five minutes.

"Dean, I swear, if you don't sit down, I'm going to get a doctor over here to sedate you." She said. Dean shot her a glare, which she returned whole heartedly, before he took a seat beside her, his head in his hands. Unsure what else to do, Haley put an arm around his shoulder t comfort him, but he shrugged it off, getting to his feet again and leaning against the wall opposite her. After a moment of rubbing his eyes (Haley guessed he was trying to hide tears), he just stared at her for a second. He didn't speak for a moment, and when he did his voice was tight with self-control; he was trying very hard not to sound like he was losing it.

"Why didn't he move?" He asked no one in particular. "I mean, did that nut-job do something to him? If he did, I'm going to summon his ass back from wherever the hell it is he went, and then I'm gonna kill him again."

Haley stared at the wall beside Dean for a moment before speaking, "He was afraid," she whispered, leaning forward onto her hands, elbows propped on her knees.

"What, Dime was afraid of something?" Dean asked skeptically. Haley shot him a disappointed glare.

"No, you nitwit, Sam was afraid," she said softly, "afraid of the fire."

"Sam? Afraid of fire?" Dean asked, the skepticism still evident in his voice. "Haley, Sam has survived two fires in one lifetime, not to mention how many demons that used fire that he's faced over the past few years."

"Yeah, two fires in one lifetime." Haley said. "Both of which took someone he cared about. You lose two people you loved in a fire, not to mention almost die in one yourself, and tell me how happy you'd be to see someone combust in front of you."

Dean blinked, stared at Haley for a few seconds, a little shocked by her outburst. The young woman shook herself, and got to her feet.

"I'm sorry; I'm just feeling a little…" She shook her head. "I mean… I've fought evil spirits and stuff before… but I've never killed a human man. Even one that's been blessed and/or possessed by a demon." She gave herself another shake. "I never thought I'd have to." She sat back down. After a moment's hesitation, Dean sat down beside her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"It wasn't you who killed him," he said, "Sam was the one who pulled the trigger." He didn't know how much comfort that would be. He didn't feel good saying it; it felt like he was blaming Sam for what had happened to him.

"I still helped." Haley said. There was a shuffling of feet, and then both hunters were on their feet as the doctor came down the hallway.

"Mr. Simmons?" The doctor addressed Dean.

"That's me," Dean said. "Is my brother okay?" He asked.

The doctor gave Dean a grave look. "He'll live," he said, "he's suffered first degree burns on his face, mostly around his eyes. But I'm afraid that's not the worst of the injuries."

"What?" Dean asked. The doctor seemed to be stalling. "What is it? What's wrong with my brother!" He almost shouted. The doctor glared at Dean for a moment, then his face changed to a look of understanding.

"May I ask how I suffered such injuries in the first place?" He asked. Dean opened his mouth, but Haley cut across; she doubted he'd been thinking of a story to cover up what they'd been doing, so she'd been thinking up one while they waited.

"He was trying to light the stove," she said. "It kind of went… well…" She threw up her hands, making a sound like a small explosion.

"I see," the doctor said.

"Well you won't if you don't tell me what's wrong with my brother in the next five seconds." Dean said flatly.

"Unfortunately," the doctor said, looking at Dean and Haley over his glasses, "neither will your brother." Dean snapped his mouth shut before he said what he'd been about to say.

"What do you mean?" Haley asked.

"I'm sorry, how are you related to him?" The doctor asked. Haley opened her mouth, but this time it was Dean who gave the answer.

"She's our cousin." He said. The doctor gave another nod, then continued.

"The flash from the explosion has caused severe trauma to Sam's visual nervous system," the doctor explained, "we won't know for sure until he wakes up, but we think it's possible he may suffer temporary, if not… permanent, loss of sight."

Dean blinked, his mouth working soundlessly. Sure, his brother was still alive, but… possibly permanent loss of sight?

After a minute of indecipherable speech, Dean finally got a few words out. "Can I see him?" He asked, his voice cracked. The doctor nodded solemnly.

"He's still unconscious at the moment; as of yet, we're still unsure if it's merely shock or a coma; we're still waiting for the x-rays to come back. But by all means," he gestured toward the room Sam was in, and Dean raced toward the door, with Haley following him at a leisurely walk.

His brother was indeed unconscious, lying on the hospital bed with his face still covered in angry red burns. Dean walked over and sat in the chair beside his brother's bed, while Haley took up a position by the door, giving Dean a few moments with his brother.

After about five minutes, Dean started rolling his head to loosen up the tight muscles in his neck.

"There's nothing much we can do until he wakes up." Haley said, walking over and standing beside him. "Maybe you should have the doctor look at the blood coming out of your scalp." She suggested, noticing the dried blood, and the not-so-dry blood, that had matted a small part of Dean's spiky brown hair. They were almost at the door when a strangled gasp reached there ears, followed by a slight whimper of pain as Sam tried to move his aching body.

Dean left Haley's side the instant Sam gasped, and was by his side barely a second later.

"Dean?" Sam's tone was raspy, and he opened his eyes, looking wildly around the room.

"I'm here, Sammy." Dean said, grasping his brother's hand.

Sam's relaxed slightly when he felt his brother's rough-skinned hand in his own. He blinked, looking around, trying to see his brother's face. "What's with the total darkness? There's a new invention, maybe the hospital's heard of it; it's called a light bulb." He joked. Dean bit his lip, but didn't say anything. Haley stood by the door, not saying anything. "Dean? Come on, man, say something." Dean looked to Haley for help, but she offered no answers. Meanwhile, Sam was beginning to panic; Dean's grip had gone loose in his hand. "Dean? Dean, turn the goddamn light on!" He all but shouted, his breathing rapid, on the verge of a panic attack.

"The light is on." Dean said. Sam stopped.

"Wh-what?" He asked, his voice cracking as realization started to sink in. "Don't… don't joke with me, Dean." He said, blinking rapidly, looking wildly around the room but seeing nothing. "Dean… Dean please tell me that was a joke."

"The doc, he said… uh…" Dean was fumbling for words, trying to avoid the truth. Trying to avoid admitting it to Sam, as well as himself. "He said that you've… that your eyes might've been damaged… strained, I think was the word he used-"

"Cut the crap, Dean, what's wrong?" Sam demanded, breath quickening by the minute. The beep on the machine registering his heartbeat was slowly becoming more insistent by the minute.

"He said that you've suffered some sort of damage to your eyes." Dean said quickly, getting it all out. "That you might suffer temporary… or permanent… loss of sight." He said all that without taking a breath, and then taking a long, deep breath once he was finished. Sam laid there staring at Dean. Staring past him, through him, whatever; what mattered was that suddenly he wasn't panicked. He just stared straight ahead.

"Sam?" Dean managed. His brother didn't answer. "Sam say something, you're freaking me out with the staring." Sam's gaze locked onto the spot he heard Dean's voice come from, with anger in his eyes.

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" He asked softly, his voice tense. "What do you expect me to say?" The harshness that rose in his voice tore at Dean's heart.

"I'll… leave you two alone." Haley said, rubbing her temples as she opened the door to the room. She slipped out, leaving the two of them alone.

* * *

Once the doctors were sure that Sam was in no danger of passing out or anything like that, they released him, on the condition that he came back if he showed any signs of improvement, or if it didn't improve within the next week. 

Sam was silent for the whole drive back to the motel they were staying at. He sat in the front seat with his eyes closed, occasionally moving to get a bit more comfortable.

It took them fifteen minutes to get from the hospital to the motel. In that time, Sam somehow managed to make a mausoleum seem a much happier place then the inside of the car. Haley couldn't blame him for being upset; after all, he'd just found out he may never see again. What she didn't understand was why he was taking it out on them.

"Here we are; motel…" He was going to say sweet, "dusty, motel." He said. Haley chuckled, and then saw the state of disrepair the outside of the motel was in, and shot a glance at Dean.

"You've got to be kidding me." She said, turning back to look at the motel. "You seriously couldn't find anything better for…?" She stopped, but Sam knew what she'd been about to say.

"Hey, what's the problem?" He asked in a mock-cheery voice. "It's not like I'll see it." He fumbled for the door handle, found it, and staggered out of the car.

Haley could practically feel the fear suddenly well up inside him as e stepped away from the car. Back at the hospital, he'd been restricted to his bed until they left, at which point Dean had guided him to the car. Suddenly there were no restrictions, no Dean, and he had just stepped away from the only support he had. He was, for all intents and purposes, alone in a sea of blackness.

But then Dean was by his side, and Haley saw the not-quite-concealed sigh of relief that escaped the younger brother. She got out of the car and went around to the trunk, grabbing their gear while Dean guided a slightly-frustrated Sam to the front door, and then to their room.

He sat Sam down on the couch, while Haley set about unpacking their gear after nearly a minute of awkwardness, Sam spoke up.

"Guys, silence, bad, can't see anything, remember?" Haley noticed the slight quiver in his voice, and for the first time since leaving the hospital wondered just how hard it must be for him.

"Right, sorry." Dean said, but both he and Haley were at a loss for words. Neither of them knew what to say.

"Guys, talk, sing, shout, yodel, do anything, but don't stand there staring at each other, please!" He all but shouted. Haley frowned, then walked over and turned the TV on.

"Until we think of something to say." She said. Sam stared at the screen, eyes wide.

"Great, I can listen to the Sound of Music." He said. Haley's nostril twitched; something it did if she was annoyed, frustrated, that kind of thing, but she didn't say anything. Though if she were to say something, the words 'unappreciative' and 'childish' leapt to mind. But she reminded herself that Sam was the one in the dark, so he had every right to act behave a sour child. Didn't mean she had to like it though.

"I guess I'll go get us something to eat." She said. Dean looked at her for a minute, then tossed her his keys.

"You'll get around quicker with the car." He said as Haley snatched the keys out of the air.

"Thanks." She said, heading out the front to the Impala. She climbed in and turned the ignition, and drove the car out of the parking lot, going in search of a fast-food place of some sort.

After driving around for nearly fifteen minutes, she gave in and pulled into a McDonalds drive thru, realizing there was nothing better then that in the small town. How McDonalds had stretched its arms to such a small town, she did not know. She pondered the meaningless question as she drove back to the motel, the passenger seat covered with an assortment of stuff she was sure was food in a past life. Now, though… it just tasted like food. She hoped.

She parked the car in the motel parking lot, grabbed the bags of fries, burgers, nuggets and thick shakes, and somehow managed to carry to the door of the room she was sharing with Sam and Dean.

She pushed the door open a crack, hearing angry shouts coming from inside the room, and saw Sam on his feet, staring in Dean's general direction, and using every bit of his height advantage to try and seem intimidating while he shouted at his brother.

"… two years for you to trust me enough to drive that car." He said, resentment evident in his voice. "We've known her for, what, two days? And you give her the keys like you've known her all your life."

"What is your problem, Sammy?" Dean shouted back. "What, are you jealous? Is that it?"

"It's Sam!" Sam shouted at his brother. "And what do you mean, jealous? You think it's remotely possible for me to be jealous of her?" Sam scoffed. "Ha, no chance. I just can't believe you're so trusting of her."

"Well, in case you hadn't noticed, _Sam_." He put as much venom into the name as he could. Haley groaned, her headache flaring up again. Neither Sam nor Dean noticed. "She's saved both our lives at least once-"

"And that's enough?" Sam interrupted.

"Yeah, saving your life counts for quite a lot in my opinion." Dean shot back.

"Oh, yeah, and she did so well in our last fight." He said.

"Well, if you want to get into that, Sam, you were the one that pulled the trigger." Dean knew he should've stopped there. "You've got no one to blame but yourself." He immediately wished he had. Despite the fact that it was the truth, he saw how much it hurt Sam; the younger man obviously knew perfectly well he had no one to blame for his handicap.

They both heard a gasp from the door, and Haley fell through the opening, crashing to the floor. Sam didn't move; it was either because he didn't know how many things he'd hit before he got there, or he just couldn't be bothered going to help. Either way, Dean pushed past him and ran to Haley's side, earning him a sneer from Sam.

"Haley, you okay?" Dean asked, kneeling beside her. She glared at him as she sat up.

"I'm fine, I'm not an invalid." She snapped, getting to her feet. Dean took a step back like she'd bitten him. Haley bit her lip, looking at the floor when she realized what she'd said. Dean turned to look at Sam, and saw him standing the exact same way, biting down on his lip and staring at the floor.

"Okay, the whole synchronization thing is kind of creepy," he said, looking from one to the other. "Why don't I just… go out for a while…" He took the keys to the Impala from Haley's hand, and headed out the door. "Give you two a chance to say all the horrible things about me that you're obviously dying to say." He felt a little out-numbered, and it didn't help the matter knowing that the two of them seemed to seriously dislike each other.

Haley ignored the bags of food she'd dropped on the floor when she'd collapsed, and walked over to the kitchen, purposefully shoving Sam out of the way with her shoulder. He flinched as she touched him, and she suddenly felt like kicking herself. As angry as she (unexplainably) felt, she couldn't believe she'd forgotten Sam couldn't see her.

That guilt vanished when she remembered what the argument had been about. It was obvious that Dean giving her the keys to his beloved car was a sign of him trusting her, and that trust obviously angered Sam, for whatever reason. What might have been a growl escaped Sam's lips, and then staggered back to the couch, his hands held in front of him; level with his waist, so that he would touch the couch before he ran into it. The slightest feeling of pity crossed Haley's mind. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to not be able to see.

* * *

**A/N: There you have it, the next chapter. As always, R&R, and I'll keep the updates coming. I've been given four until the beginning of next week to write as much as I want, so the updates should flow pretty well until then. I hope. BTW, of all the people who have put this fanfic on alert, only two of you have reviewed. Hint, hint... **


	11. Seeing is Believing, Believing is Listen

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: Hmmm… no, wait, I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Heartsbane, and his band of delirious followers.

Chapter 10 – Seeing is Believing, Believing is Listening

* * *

He'd been sitting on the couch for nearly ten minutes. He was still angry with his brother, and angry at Haley, and most of all angry at himself for setting himself up to be reminded that all of this was his ownfault. He felt like hitting something, breaking something; he was on the verge of getting up to do just that when something slammed into the side of his face with such ferocity that he was knocked onto his side. 

"What the hell-?" He began.

"Stop sulking." It was Haley. He couldn't believe it; Haley had just slapped him around the face. "You're acting like a spoilt child."

"What'd you do that for?" Sam snapped sullenly, rubbing his cheek. A second later, he felt a second sharp pain as she hit him on the other side of the face. This time he fell off the couch, hitting the floor face down. Rage boiled up inside him. What right did she have to do that?

"Get up!" Haley shouted at him. "Get up and stop acting like a sniveling baby!" Sam swallowed his pride, and tried to crawl away from her, unable to see where she was, and therefore unable to fight back. His attempt at escape was met by a light kick to the abdomen, throwing him off his hands and knees.

"Stop it!" Sam gasped at her, the wind knocked out of him.

"Fight back!" Haley said. Sam had been looking to start a fight earlier; had tried to taunt his brother into it, but that had been on his terms. He suddenly wondered if maybe he had done the wrong thing, trying to get Dean to fight him. The reality of just how helpless he was started to sink in. "What kind of hunter are you?" She snapped. He looked wildly around him, trying to pinpoint the location her voice was coming from. "Your father raised you to fight, not lie on the ground like a coward!"

"In case you've forgotten, I can't see." Sam said tensely. Haley gave a short life.

"Oh yeah, and since you can't see, you can't use your arms anymore, or your legs, or your ears." She taunted. "You might as well lie down and let everyone walk all over your like a doormat." To add insult to injury, Sam suddenly felt her foot push underneath him and flip him over so he was lying face-down. A second later, she dropped her foot down on the square of his back, putting on just enough pressure to keep him pinned down. "If I was a demon, would you just lie there waiting for the final blow?" She had leaned down and was whispering in his ear. "If was going to kill Dean, would you just sit there crying while I did it?" The seriousness in her voice was a little unnerving to Sam. And then her foot was gone. He took in a few deep breaths, waiting for her to come back. When, after a minute, she didn't, he tentatively rolled over onto his back, feeling around in front of him to see if she was anywhere near him.

Slowly, he got to his feet, looking around the room for her.

"Stop relying on your eyes to find me, Sam." She was moving around him so fast, it was almost impossible to know what direction she was coming from. It was almost like she was coming from every direction at once. "They can't help you anymore." Her felt her fist collide with his chin, and his head snapped back. He staggered for a second and then swung his fist in the direction he hoped she'd come from, but almost fell forward as his fist hit air.

"If this was a real fight, you'd be dead already." He was sure she'd come from his left that time, and turned, kicking out in that direction.

"Fight me, Sam." She cooed.

"I am!" He shouted at her, looking around for her.

"No you're not." She said. "You're fighting yourself. You keep looking but you're not seeing."

"That doesn't even make sense." Sam said, punching in the direction he thought he voice had come from. She spoke a second later, sounding like she was at the other side of the room.

"Doesn't it?" She asked. She had calmed down now, no longer with the ferocity of a feral animal. "Ask around the community. Just about everyone we meet looks; but almost nobody sees." She was always moving, like a predatory animal. And Sam was the prey. "You have a chance to see as we're meant to, Sam. Just stop looking." The next punch that hit his face felt like it had come from a gorilla.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Anger seemed to melt away. He'd forgotten what was happening around him. All that mattered was understanding. He had to know why she was doing this to him.  
"Listen." A single word. It was enough.

He spun around, bringing his arm up to block the incoming punch. He dropped to the floor and kicked out in a wide circle with his leg, sweeping Haley's legs out from under her. With a cry of surprise, he heard Haley hit the floor in front of him. Followed by a light chuckle.

"Now that's the Sam I love to hate." She said. He blinked. He suddenly felt alive; more so then he had in months, since Jessica died. He heard the door open.

"Haley?" He said, looking around.

"I'm going for a walk." She said. It was almost like she hadn't just spent the past five minutes beating Sam to hell. "Give you time to think." He frowned, looking in the direction of her voice as she door closed behind her.

With a sigh, Sam stood up again. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins the past few minutes diminished and left him with a feeling of extreme weariness. Or it could be that every bone in his body was now aching from when Haley had knocked him off the couch.

"Haley…" He said softly. Maybe he'd been wrong about her. Maybe she wasn't as bad as he'd first thought.

He sat down on one of the beds, after fumbling around for it for a few minutes. The bizarre sort of seeing with his other senses was all well and good, but it didn't help if there was no noise to see with. He realized he strange that would sound if he said that out loud.

He smiled to himself, closing his sightless eyes and laying back on the bed. He had intended to get some rest before Dean returned; he owed his brother a huge apology, and he wanted to be well rested when he gave it. But something felt wrong as his head hit the pillow. He could hear footsteps outside the door, but they weren't Haley's or Dean's. Faster then he would have thought possible, he leapt from the bed at the door, hand reaching out for the door, and then for the latch located somewhere above the door handle. He found it and pulled the bolt across just as the door handle turned. He heard a frustrated grumble on the other side of the door when it didn't open. He strained to hear what was being said on the other side of the door.

"Get it open." Someone said; a female voice. "And don't make too much noise. We don't want to alert him." _Too late._ Sam thought. He stepped away from the door. Fear started to rise up in the pit of his stomach. Fighting against an unarmed Haley was one thing; fighting against (probably fully armed) intruders that he was sure had no intention without leaving what they came for would be something different entirely.

He turned and crouched, feeling in front of him to try and find his back pack. He knew Haley had brought it in, but he hadn't seen where she'd left it. He had to find it before they got the door open.

He heard what sounded like a power drill outside. He didn't take the time to wonder what they could be using it for. He continued his search for the back pack.

* * *

Dean had been driving around for a good ten or fifteen minutes when he saw Haley walking along the side walk, a knee-length black coat pulled on over her normal attire. He was not surprised; the temperature had dropped dramatically since they'd gotten to the motel. He pulled over, and she turned, smiling when she saw him. 

"I take it you're not angry anymore?" Dean asked, opening the passenger door. Haley walked over and climbed in.

"Yeah, about that, I'm sorry." She said. "I wasn't really… myself." She shrugged, not sure how to explain what she'd felt. Dean nodded, and was about to go back out onto the road when realization hit him.

"You left Sam on his own?" He said, shooting a look of shock at her. Haley blinked.

"Yeah, I… I was just going out to get some more food. The food I'd gotten had gone cold." She said. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, his mobile rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered the call.

"Sam, is that-?"

"Dean?" Sam's voice was filled with fear. "Dean, they're here. They're right outside the door… I can't stop them from coming in."

"Whoa, slow down, Sam, who's there?" Dean asked. He glanced at Haley, and then pulled out onto the road, starting the drive back to the motel.

"Heartsbane's followers." Sam said softly. "They don't know I know they're out there yet, but…" He trailed off.

"Okay, Sam, go into the bathroom, close and lock the door, and wait there. We'll be there in five minutes, tops." Dean said, and made to hang up.

"No! No, don't hang up." Sam said, his voice panicky. "I… I don't want to be left alone. Dean… Dean, I'm scared." Dean couldn't blame him. He was alone in a strange place, with a bunch of nut-jobs trying to break down the door, and he couldn't see anything around him.

"Sam, I can't talk and drive." Dean said helplessly.

"Give me the phone." Haley said, taking the phone from Dean's hands before he answered her. "Sam, it's Haley." She said into the phone. "Don't worry, we're coming."

"Haley… keep talking." He breathed. "I need to know you're still there."

"Don't worry, we won't leave you." She said. She didn't know what to say, and the few seconds of silence caused Sam's panic to rise.

"Haley!" He said, probably a little louder then he should have. She heard the sound of a door closing on the other end of the phone, and guessed he'd found his way to the bathroom.

"I'm here, Sam."

"Then don't be quiet. Talk, sing, yell at me, do anything, just please don't be quiet." It was a plea this time, as opposed to earlier that morning (barely an hour ago, now that she thought about it) when it had been a demand.

"Uh… okay." She tried to think of something to say, preferably something to calm him down. "Uh…"

"Haley…" Dean voice was filled with worry.

"Uh… okay, um, hush little baby, don't say a word, mummy's gonna buy you a mocking bird." Haley started singing the lullaby. Dean shot her a questioning glance, and she shrugged, but kept singing, hearing Sam's breathing slow and relax a little with each word. "And if that mocking bird don't sing, mummy's gonna buy you a diamond ring…" She continued singing to Sam, and heard him slowly relax on the other end of the phone. When she realized she couldn't remember all of the words, she started to improvise.

"Haley, they're in the room." Sam interrupted her.

"Did you lock the door?" Haley asked quickly.

"Yes, but I don't know how long that will hold them." Sam said softly. "How far away are you?"

Haley looked at Dean. "How far?" She asked.

"Two minutes."

"You hear that, Sam?" She asked.

"Make it one, they're…" Haley heard the sound of a door being broken off its hinges. She heard a shocked gasp from Sam.

"Sam? Sam? Sam!" She shouted into the phone, just before it went dead. "Okay, hit the gas, Dean!" She ordered. Dean didn't need encouragement; luckily, the road was reasonably empty, so they didn't have any problems with the speed they were going.

Dean roared into the parking lot, slamming the brakes. Haley barely waited for him to park; she took her tiny gun out of her coat pocket and raced up the front steps, with Dean right behind her. No one was at the front desk, so no one could be suspicious of why she was running into the motel with a gun.

"Sam?" Dean shouted as they came into the room. The hinges of the front door had been unscrewed, and the door was lying on the floor in front of them. The bathroom door had not been as lucky, and had been kicked in. Dean and Haley raced to the bathroom. It was empty. "No… Sammy…" He walked into the bathroom, eyes darting around the room, searching for something, anything, that would tell him where his brother had been taken. But aside from the doors being off their hinges and Sam not being there, there was no sign that anyone had been there while they were gone.

* * *

**A/N: So, what's it been? Three hours since the last update? Something like that. Couldn't stop writing. As always, R&R. Let's see how quickly I can get the next update done.**


	12. Blind Faith

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Heartsbane, and his band of delirious followers.

Author's Note: I have no idea how hacking works. Like the last chapter, I just wrote this based on stuff I read that I didn't understand.

Review answers:

**Ghostwriter** - Lol, not much to say to that, 'cept thanks for the reviews. It's reviews like yours that keep me writing.

**Miss Meehan** - Thanks, hope to hear more from you in later reviews.

**JPFAN** - Wow, okay, in that case, here's your update, I'll get the next one done as quickly as I can.

Chapter 11 – Blind Faith

* * *

Dean paced back and forth while Haley's slender fingers danced across the keyboard. She tried to focus solely on the computer as she hacked into security system of the café across the street. 

"Can't you do that any faster?" Dean demanded, not stopping.

"Hey, I'm good, but I'm not that good," Haley said, "it's going to take me a little while to get this working."

"Yeah, and while you sit there tapping away at that computer, my brother's out there with a bunch of psychotic cultists." Dean said. "Not to mention he can't see a thing, which means he can't defend himself if he has to fight."

Haley took in a calming breath. She understood that Dean was worried. She was worried too. But Dean was slowly elevating into panic, not to mention the pacing was slowly wearing away Haley's nerves.

"He's out of hospital, what, an hour?" Dean said. "They couldn't give him a couple of days to recover before they…" He was rambling. Haley tuned his voice out and continued typing on the keyboard, trying to break through the measly defenses the around the security system.

"Okay, I'm in." She moved the video file onto the laptop she was working on, and then opened it. Dean stood behind her, watching as the video started to play. It didn't show much. "Okay, fast forward to…" She checked her watch. "…twelve-thirty." She moved the cursor along the index up to the time where Sam had called them on Dean's mobile. There was a large van parked out the front of the motel.

"Well, I'm guessing that's their getaway car." Dean said.

"What tipped you off?" Haley asked, watching the video.

"Two hints." Dean said. "One: it's a van, they were coming after Sam, they'd need something large enough, to carry him as well as them, not to mention it had to hide him. And two: the license plate is missing."

"I see." Haley said. They watched for another few minutes, and then saw about half a dozen people walking somewhat awkwardly out of the motel toward the van. "Sam." She said, pausing the video and pointing to one of them, who seemed to be leaning on another. "From afar it might look like they're just helping him, but if you look up close…" She zoomed in. "…his feet are about an inch off the ground…" She paused. "No easy feat." She said, remembering how tall Sam was.

"Hey, I recognize her." Dean pointed to the woman that was opening the van door.

"You do?" Haley asked. "From where?"

"Mrs. Dime," Dean explained. "Or that's who she said she was when she answered the door last night."

Haley leaned back against the chair. "Do you think maybe that's their base?" She asked. "The Dimes' house?"

"It's a definite possibility." Dean said, already turning away from the computer. Haley grabbed her coat off the back of her chair, shutting the computer down. Dean grabbed his jacket from the bed, slid a gun into one of the inside pockets, a knife into another, and then raced for the door, with Haley right behind him, pulling on her coat as she did.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes slowly. He felt cold. Really cold. And no wonder. 

As he checked to make sure all his body parts were still functioned, he realized he had been stripped down to an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts. He shivered, pulling himself into a sitting position, pulling his knees up to his chest and rubbing his arms, looking around the room he was in. That's when he remembered he couldn't see. Of all the days to beabducted by crazed cultists, it had to be the day after he lost his sight.

He stopped rubbing his arms, the sound of breathing reaching his ears. He strained his ears for something more.

"Who's there?" He whispered hoarsely. God, he was cold.

"Ah, you're awake." A voice penetrated the sea of blackness that he was in. "Good, I was afraid those fools I sent after you had hit you too hard."

"They didn't hit me." Sam said. He didn't remember being hit. In fact, he didn't remember much from those last few minutes at all. The last he remembered was Haley starting to sing, and then… everything was messed up, like a video in a bad VCR.

"No, of course not…" The cultist said.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, trying to sound more confident then he felt.

"Who I am… is not important." Sam could here the amusement in the cultist's voice. "What I'm for… now that's what you should be worried about." Sam heard footsteps. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening, but he was pretty sure he didn't want those footsteps to reach him.

He got to his feet as fast as his cold bones allowed him. He moved in the opposite direction to what the footsteps were, trying his best to keep away from them. It was hard when he couldn't see anything, and the floor was littered with obstacles of all sorts.

The worst part about it was the unnerving way that the cultist was walking toward him. His pace never changed no matter what direction he moved in. It was like he had all the time in the world.

"I can keep doing this all afternoon, boy," said the man "but I, for one, do not find the prospect particularly thrilling." Sam heard the sound of a knife being unsheathed. He stumbled back, tripping on some sort of chair someone had felt the need to put in his path. He fell backwards, his legs getting tangled up with the chair.

The pace of his attacker increased slightly, coming toward him. He struggled to get away, to untangle himself from the damn chair, but he knew he wasn't going to be fast enough.

The footsteps stopped right in front of him. There was a minute of horrifying anticipation; his attacker was seemed to be getting some kind of thrill out of making him wait for the killing blow.

He let out a gasp of shock as the man took hold of him by his hair and roughly pulled him up to his knees. The hot, stinking breath of the cultist hit his nostrils like a ton of bricks as he knelt down in front of Sam.

"It won't be much…" He said softly. "Well, not at first." Sam bit back a gasp of shock as he felt cold steel against the side of his neck. "Don't worry, Sam. It won't hurt… too much." What was it with this guy and his 'too much's'?

Sam couldn't hold back the cry of pain that escaped him as the knife sliced open a fine slit in the side of his neck.

He felt something just as cold being pressed against his neck just below the wound and felt the blood trickle from the cut into whatever it was the cultist held there. He tried to hold back tears of pain and fear as the cultist relinquished hold of his hair, shoving him roughly to the ground.

"Thank you for the kind donation." He said, an unnerving smile evident in his voice. Sam just laid there, shaking on the cold floor. He felt alone, afraid, and he felt like he was drowning. He tried to remember the things Haley had 'taught' him that afternoon, but like his memories of those last few minutes before he passed out in the bathroom, much of what happened before that was a jumbled mess as well, all the way back to the moment right before Dime had exploded in front of him the night before.

He looked up slightly as he heard the cultist leave through a door, but his hopes were dashed when he heard a lock turn. He laid his head down on his arms, hoping that Dean and Haley had figured out where he was. Especially since he didn't have a clue.

* * *

Dean very nearly did a three hundred and sixty degree spin; he'd been going so fast he nearly went past the house, and as a result, Haley almost lost her lunch as Dean turned the car and parked out the front of the house that Father Dime and his 'family' lived at. If he'd had his way, he'd have run in there and shot anything or –one that moved, minus Sam. Haley had managed to talk him out of it, stating that they were just as likely to get themselves killed doing it like that as they were to kill the cultists. 

"Okay, so, if my plan sucks, what's yours?" Dean asked.

"I go up and knock on the door, you shoot the person who answers, and we _sneak_ into the house." She said.

"Yeah, and a gun shot isn't going to alert them to our presence." Dean said sarcastically.

"Which is why we have to be quick about getting in." Haley said. "Chances are, they won't be performing the ritual in the actual house, which means most of them will probably be in a back shed of some sort."

"Ritual?" Dean asked. Haley rolled her eyes.

"Heartsbane, remember." She said.

"Oh, right." Dean got out of the car, taking the gun out of his jacket pocket. "Ready?"

"Sure," Haley said, _just probably going to kill more human beings. I'll be fine._ "Let's do this." She said, walking up to the front door, and knocking a couple of times.

Dean brought the gun up as the door opened. He was a split second from pulling the trigger when his eyes feel on the face of a teenaged girl, and his breath caught in his throat. Haley blinked, waiting for the shot that never came.

But the girl saw the gun in Dean's hand, and growled in an almost animal-like way. She trust her hand forward, and with the same kinetic power that Father Dime had displayed, sent Haley and Dean hurtling onto the front yard.

Haley was on her feet first, pulling out her gun and firing at the girl. The silver bullets crossed the distance between them and puncturing the girls chest in three places. She gasped and fell back, blood pouring from the three bullet holes in her chest.

Haley let out a shaky breath but didn't take time to collect herself; she raced to Dean's side, pulling him to his feet.

"Later you can explain to me why you hesitated, for now, we have to find Sam." She said. Dean nodded, not saying anything. They ran up the front steps and around the dying body of the teenager. Dean gave her an especially wide berth, quite an accomplishment considering she took up most of the doorway.

"She can't have been more then seventeen." He said softly as they moved through the house, guns raised. "What is a seventeen-year-old doing mixed up in this sort of thing?" He started a steady stream of quiet rambling, something Haley was slowly getting used to him doing if he was upset or worried.

The covered the first floor, and then headed upstairs, though in truth, Haley doubted they'd have taken him upstairs. Her instincts turned out right; there was no sign of him upstairs. In fact, there was no sign of anyone, save the girl Haley had shot. She was having just as hard a time as Dean was, more so, she felt. Thoughts raced through her mind, which was why she was trying so hard to focus on finding Sam. She was trying hard not to think of what she'd done.

She'd killed dozens of demons for over two years, but until last night, she had never been responsible for the death of another human being. And until a few minutes ago she'd never been the one to pull the trigger on them.

"Okay, he's obviously not going to be in plain sight." Haley said after a moment. "So, we have two choices, and we have to choose one fast. We can either go in search of wherever it is they plan to do this ritual. Or we can look for a basement and hope we find Sam there."

Dean bit his lip, unsure what to do. He gave Haley a questioning look. She got the message all too well.

"Oh, no. We are not splitting up." She said flatly.

"Haley, we don't have much time. If we split up, we can cover more ground and maybe find Sam quicker." He insisted. Haley opened her mouth, but he cut across her. "Please." He said, a pleading look on his face. "You go out to the backyard; I'll start looking for a basement." He offered. Haley looked like she wanted to argue. "Back yard's that way." Dena pointed with his gun. Deciding there was no point in arguing with him on this, Haley nodded and headed in the direction Dean had pointed, her gun twitching every now and then.

She reached the back door fairly quickly, and saw a large shed at the very back of the yard, behind which there was a large, somewhat creepy-looking forest.

"Okay, calm, nice and easy, just go out to the shed and hope there isn't a bunch of…" How had Dean put it earlier? "Psychotic cultists waiting to cut out my heart and feed it to a netherworld spirit." _Great way to boost your confidence, Haley. _She thought to herself. She made sure the safety was off on her gun, and slowly pulled the screen door open, stepping out into the backyard.

* * *

A small whimper escaped Sam's lips when he heard the door come unlocked and open again. He tried to pull himself to is feet, or further away from the door, or anything that would help him avoid what was going to happen, but his body was stiff and cold, and he felt weak from loss of blood. The cut hadn't been weak, but it had been open for a long while, or he thought it had. 

"Sam?" Sam's eyes opened wide, though it didn't help him to see anything. He was sure… but it couldn't be. "Sammy, you here?"

"Dean?" He croaked.

"Sam!" Dean shouted. Sam heard what sounded like someone hitting the floor hard, and then Dean was by his side, rolling him over onto his back. "What the- you're absolutely freezing." Sam felt himself being lifted off the ground, and then warmth covered his arms and shoulders, and he was laid back down, leaning into the warmth Dean had given him. "What did they do to your neck, Sammy?"

"They n-needed blood d-donors." Sam said quietly, his teeth chattering from cold in spite of whatever it was Dean had draped around his shoulders. But a small smile played on his lips.

"You know Sammy," Dean said, and Sam could hear the smile in his voice; he found Sam's attempt at a joke amusing at least, "we need to come up with a better arrangement. I mean, every job we take, you seem to end up on the floor and I have to come in and save your ass before you get yourself killed."

"I'll t-try harder." Sam said, feeling the warmth move through his body.

"Right," Dean said. Sam felt his brother's arm crawl underneath him and help him to his feet.

"Where's Haley?" Sam asked.

"Looking for you in the backyard, come on, let's go find her." Dean said, helping Sam forward. They came to a set of stairs, leading to just a tiny bit of trouble for Sam and his freezing legs.

"I'm not giving you my pants." Dean joked, helping him up the stairs. Sam chuckled lightly, as did Dean.

"What- who're you?" Sam gave a sharp intake of breath, recognizing the voice.

"I… I was just taking him out to the shed." Dean said hopefully.

"Nice try, I'm the only one allowed to do that." Said the cultist. Sam heard something click.

"Dean!" He pushed his brother to the ground just in time to save him from a bullet in the head. He hoped. Frustration welled up inside him; what he wouldn't give to be able to see right then. "Dean, you okay."

Another gun shot.

"Argh!" Sam cried out, his ears screaming in protest at the loud bang that the gun had emitted. He fell backwards off his brother, holding his ears.

"Time to go, Sam." The cultist said, walking forward. He heard the cultist coming nearer, knew he only he one shot. If this didn't work he was as good as dead. Wait just a few more seconds. The cultist was just a few feet away when he leapt to his feet, kicking up in the direction he hoped would be the other guy's arm. Incredibly, miraculously, the timing was perfect, his leg hitting the cultist's lower arm with all the strength he could muster, and throwing the gun from his hands.

Nothing like the possibility of your brother being dead to get the adrenaline pumping.

He was more then a little surprised he'd managed it. But he didn't have time to be surprised. The cultist growled, which turned out to be a mistake on his part because it told Sam exactly where he was, and he kicked again, this time in the chin.

A groan of pain, and he Sam swung with his fist, connecting with the guy's jaw. He heard him crash to the ground.

"Dean?" Sam asked, not waiting to see if the cultist got to his feet again. He turned, trying to pinpoint his brother's location from the shaky breaths he was hearing. "Dean?" He asked again.

"Yeah… yeah, I'll be fine, just a bullet in the leg." Just_ a bullet in the leg?_ Sam thought. When would an injury classify as an emergency for his brother? If it wasn't Sam who was injured.

"Well, you wait here." Sam fumbled along the floor for the gun the cultist had dropped.

"What, and you're going to go get her?" Dean asked. "Sam, you can't see a damn thing. How're you going to do in a fight?"

"I beat that other guy just now, didn't I?" Sam said defensively.

"Yeah, one guy who wasn't expecting much from you." Dean said. "You're freezing cold, can't see a thing, not to mention completely unarmed."

"And compared to the rest of the cultists, so is Haley." Sam said.

"Help me up." Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked. "Dean, you're-"

"Sam, if you… can go out there…" Dean took on a long breath. Sam wondered how much blood he'd already lost from the bullet wound. "… to help her with bad eyes… then I am not going to let you… leave me behind… because of a wounded leg. Now help me up." The lost few words were said in a tone Sam was surprised Dean could accomplish if he was in as much pain as he sounded. "Now, Sam." With a sigh of resignation, Sam reached out and felt his brother's hand closed around his. He pulled him up and let him lean on his shoulder as they walked. Something Dean had some difficulty with due to his brother's height. "Okay, turn left here." He said. Sam turned as his brother told him. And continued to follow his brother's directions until the reached the back door. "Okay, I see no Haley." Dean said.

"Great, so, what, she got taken to be sacrificed to Heartsbane instead of me?" Sam asked.

"Let's hope not," Dean said, "Come on, there's a shed at the back where we think they might be doing the ritual."

"And you're going to take me there?" Sam asked. "In case you've forgotten, Dean, it's my heart they want."

"Would you rather stand her and wait to find out if they're willing to substitute Haley's for it?" Dean asked. After a second's hesitation, Sam pulled the door open and helped Dean outside, and then Dean helped him down the steps, biting back gasps of pain all the way.

"Please tell me you're armed." Sam said, suddenly realizing he'd forgotten to grab the cultist's gun when he'd been arguing with Dean.

"Armed and ready." Dean said. Sam heard the sound of a gun's safety being taken off. "You keep me upright, I'll keep everyone away from you." He said. "Until I run out of bullets."

"Comforting." Sam said sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, just hope there aren't too many of them." Dean said.

"Will do." Sam said, and then a few seconds later, he spoke up again. "Give me a gun." He said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I know you must have more then one. Give me one of them." Sam insisted. "I may not be able to see, but he can hear them breathing, I'll be able to find them." His tone left no space for argument. Dean pulled one of his smaller guns that he'd tucked into his belt. "Thanks." He said. Dean just grumbled something, obviously not too thrilled with the prospect of a Sam using a gun without being able to see. "We're here." He said suddenly.

"What, how'd you know?" Dean asked. "Is your vision getting better?" He asked.

"No, it got colder; we're in the shadow of the shed." He said. Dean looked around and realized that the shed had cast quiet a long shadow, and that they had indeed stepped into it. "Okay, hold back on that next time, it's almost like being psychic." Sam frowned for a minute, thinking of his dreams, and he remembered the one he'd had just before they'd arrived at that motel. It had come true, like the ones of Jess had.

All thoughts of the dream vanished form his mind as Dean opened the door to the shed.

**

* * *

A/N: I know, terrible place to end the chapter, but I was beginning to get the feeling I was drawing it out too long, so I ended it here, and will pick up where I left off in the next chapter.**


	13. Heart Burn

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I had a wonderful dream… then I woke up, and Supernatural, among other things, was not mine. However, Haley, Heartsbane, and his band of delirious followers remain mine so far as I know.

Chapter 12 – Heart Burn

* * *

The first thing Sam noticed as they stepped into the shed was the putrid smell of rotting meat. He wrinkled his nose, turning his head from side to side, trying to clear his nostrils of the stench. 

"Can you see anyone?" He asked his brother.

"No, not-" Dean's sentence was ended with a groan and then he slumped against Sam's shoulder.

"Dean?" Sam asked. "Dean, not funny!" He lowered Dean to the ground, searching for his neck, not stopping to wonder what had caused Dean to suddenly slump against his body. He found his brother's neck and checked for a pulse, releasing a sigh of relief when he felt it beating beneath his fingers.

Then he stopped to wonder what had caused Dean to suddenly slump against his body. A second later, his answer came in the form of something hard smash against his head. He slumped forward on top of his brother, unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

"Sam… hey, Sam, you with us?" Sam groaned, shaking his head. No, he was not with them. He wanted to wake up in the motel room and find out they'd never gone after Heartsbane. He wanted to open his eyes and see the room around him. "Sam, please wake up." The pleading in his brother's voice was what brought him around. He groaned as he opened his eyes. 

"Someone turn the lights off." He said. "I-" He suddenly realized what he'd said. Light. Something other then total blackness.

"Sam, there's no light." Dean said. Sam's heart sank. So much for getting better.

"Where are we?" Sam asked quietly. His neck was stinging where he'd been cut, and he felt he was being pressed against a giant ice cube. He was absolutely freezing. Whatever it was that Dean had given him when he had found him had been removed, leaving his arms and legs once again exposed to the temperature, which seemed to be gradually dropping. He shivered, and then gave a start when a cry of pain filled his ears. It was male, but it wasn't Dean's.

"Next time keep your hands where I can see them." Came Haley's voice. To say she sounded angry would have been an understatement.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, his voice little more then a whisper.

"Sammy?" Dean said, his voice filled with relief.

"No, Sam." Sam said. "What's happening with Haley."

"Being groped by crazed cultists is what's not happening with Haley." Was Haley's irritated response.

"What did you do?" Sam asked, smiling slightly despite their situation.

"His hands came to close to the cage bars, so I bit him."

"You bit him?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Haley asked.

Sam shook his head, trying to sit up. He felt his brother's gentle hands move underneath him and help him into a sitting position.

"Argh…" It hurt to move. His arms and legs and back and virtually every other part of his body was stiff from the cold. "Where are we?" He asked.

"Dunno, except we're in a cage." Dean said, sitting down beside his brother. Sam tried to suppress a shiver, but his brother saw it. "You're cold?"

"No." Sam tried to lie. It might have been believable, if his teeth hadn't started chattering as soon as he'd opened his mouth. He heard Dean sigh. Obviously they lacked anything to warm Sam. Or so he thought, then he something warm and heavy come up against his body. He felt relief for a moment, and then he realized what it was. Or rather, who.

"Haley… not funny." He said softly.

"Not meant to be." Haley whispered in his ear. "If you think I take any pleasure of having my body against yours, think again. I just can't stand… seeing you this cold." Sam was sure she had been going to say something other then seeing, but he was too relieved by the warmth Haley brought him to worry about that.

"Someone's coming." Sam said after a while, hearing footsteps. He was a great deal warmer now, but he didn't know how long it would last if Haley was moved.

"Well, you've certainly caused a lot more trouble then I would've expected." Came the voice of a man Sam estimated was in his mid-to-late forties. He heard the sound of key being pushed into a lock, and then whatever door to the cage swung open.

Sam felt Dean leave his side, followed a few seconds later by a groan from Dean, signifying that whatever he had tried had failed.

"Take him," said the cultist that had unlocked the cage. Sam had no doubt who they were talking about. His hands found the cage bars behind him and took a tight hold of them. Well, he thought it was tight, but having Haley shoved off him and then being pulled with ease away from the bars told him he was a lot weaker then he thought.

"Haley, stop them." Dean said from wherever it was he'd fallen. Sam struggled to break free of the grip his captor had on his arms, but in his weakened state he probably wasn't even an inconvenience to him.

He heard hastened footsteps, probably Haley, but the cage door slammed shut before she reached him. He cursed mentally, too worn out to do it verbally. He couldn't believe it. After all the things he'd battled and killed, he was going to die at the hands of a human. A human blessed by a malevolent otherworldly spirit, but a human all the same. Talk about irony.

* * *

Haley stepped back from the cage door as the cultist that had unlocked the doors smirked at her. 

"Don't worry, you won't be waiting long," he said, "He'll be hungry when he's finally reawakened. You'll do well to serve as his first meal." He walked away without another word.

Haley turned away from the doors, a broad smile on her face.

"What're you smiling at?" Dean groaned, pulling himself into a crouch, winded from the blow to his stomach he'd received from one of the cultists that had come in to stop him from interfering while they took away his brother.

"Oh, just at the sheer stupidity you can always rely on cultists to suffer." She said. "While he was busy gloating, I swiped the key off his cute little key chain." She said, raising her hand to reveal the small silver key.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise, and Haley just shrugged, her smile never leaving her face. "Are you going to get up or are you just going to kneel there for the rest of the night while they kill Sam?"

"Get that door unlocked." Dean said. "Think there's any chance of getting our weapons?" He asked.

"Think there's any chance their search wasn't thorough enough?" Haley responded. She reached down the front of her coat, and pulled another of her tiny guns out of the inside pocket of it, and grinned, tossing it to him. She reached in, further this time, and pulled a second one out.

"One day you've got to tell me where you keep all these guns." Dean said.

"That's for me to know…" Haley said, reaching out of the cage and sliding the key into the lock. "… and for you to stay up late at night weeping, because you're never going to find out." She finished, pushing the door open. She turned to him. "They're both loaded with silver bullets soaked in holy water." She added absently, like it didn't really matter. She suddenly gasped, hand going to her head.

"Haley?" Dean asked, speeding his ascension to his feet and rushing to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?" He asked.

"I'll… be fine." She muttered. She rubbed her temples. "How's you leg?" She asked. Dean rubbed the side of his blood stained jeans where the bullet had grazed his thigh.

"I'll live, so long as we get out of this, with Sam." He answered. Haley nodded. They both took the safety off their tiny guns, and then slipped out of the cage.

They hadn't gone far before they came to a split in the mine-like tunnel they were in. Haley looked form one path to the other. She took a step towards one, and wrinkled her nose as a putrid stench reached her nostrils.

"Urgh… I think that way may just lead back to the shed." She said, gesturing to the path she had taken a step towards. "So, my guess is, the ritual is going to take place down that way."

"You guess?" Dean asked. "Haley, we cannot go down there based on a guess. If you're not sure, then…" Haley narrowed her eyes. Looking from one path to the other. There was complete focus in her eyes as her gaze shifted from one to the other. The tingling hit her, and her arm lifted and she pointed… straight into the wall.

"That way." She said. She blinked, turning her head and realizing she'd pointed to a blank wall of dirt.

"Haley, we don't have time for this." Dean said. Haley turned fully so that she was facing the wall.

"No, it's definitely this way." She took a running leap and slammed her foot into the wall. Dirt fell away as a carefully concealed door broken down, and she crashed through into the other side.

"Okay… that's scary, how'd you know that?" Dean asked.

"No time." Haley said, getting to her feet. "Run, we have to get there." She'd started running before she'd even finished talking. Dean, not sure what else to do, started running after her. Haley was smaller, slighter, but through some trick of nature her legs were longer, and she was taking full advantage of that as she charged down the tunnels. "Imagine how long it would've taken to build this place." She muttered as she ran. The tingling increased the further down the tunnel she got, and it was slowly elevating into fear. No, terror was more fitting for it actually. She ran faster, with Dean right behind her.

"Door!" She shouted at Dean. Dean slowed; Haley didn't. She ran and leapt again, kicking the door with all the strength she could muster.

"Oh, shit that's a tough door." She muttered, having hit the ground after slamming her foot into the door, and causing it to creak under the pressure but not actually break. "I think it's safe to say we've found them." She said. "On three?"

"Two."

"One." They both slammed a foot into the door, this time smashing it off its hinges.

They ran into the room, and stopped as about a dozen sets of eyes turned to stare at them. Haley and Dean's eyes were held by what the cultists were gathered around.

"A hole in the ground." Dean said, shaking his head. "Oh yeah, that's a huge threat." Sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice. A bright red light burst from the hole. "Okay, now it's a bit more of a threat." He scanned the room for Sam.

"There!" Haley shouted, raising her gun. Dean did the same, and they opened fire on the tall cultist that was dragging Sam by his arm toward the hole. The silver bullets penetrated his skull and he fell lifelessly to the ground, releasing Sam's arm.

"Haley?" Sam called, looking around.

"Sam, don't move." Haley said. Two cultists ran towards him. "No, change of plans, move!"

"If I could move I'd have done it by now!" Sam shouted back, looking wildly around, trying without luck to see what was happening around him.

"We can never have it easy, can we?" Dean said, shooting any cultist that made so much as a move toward his brother. Some of them were killed, others were just maimed, but as long as they didn't get near his brother, he was satisfied. "Haley, get over to Sam!" He ordered. Haley obeyed, rushing to Sam's side.

"Dean, we have a limited amount of ammo, stop shooting like its endless!" She said, looking over her shoulder as she pulled Sam (with quite a bit of effort) to his feet. "Can you stand on your own?" She asked Sam quickly, hearing that Dean was taking her advice. Sam opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a scream as one of the cultists fell into hole, hit by one of Dean's shots.

A horrifying roar filled the small dug out room. Everyone froze.

"What was that?" Sam asked softly, his hands over his ears.

"He comes!" One of the cultists, the one who seemed to be in charge, announced.

"Oh, great, can't we ever catch a break?" Dean whined.

"Not in this line of work." Haley said. She and Dean stepped in front of Sam. "I thought he needed Sam's heart to rise." She shouted as another roar filled the room.

The cultist in charge, also the only one who still seemed remotely conscious, let out a bark of a laugh. "It was not necessarily…" He seemed to try to remember something. "… Sam's heart we had to use; it just would have been preferred."

"Well, let me be the first one to say," Dean and Haley spun around. Sam had somehow found enough strength to get to his feet. And he held Haley's gun in his hand. How he'd gotten it without being able to see it, neither of them knew, "he can't have it!" Sam fired the gun in the direction of the cultist's voice. With a suddenly cry of shock and horror, the dark priest was hit in the shoulder by the silver bullet. The hissing and putrid smell of burnt meat told them the holy water was working it's wonders on him. He staggered back, and joined his underling in the hole.

"Come on, we have to…" Haley began, but she stopped, turning back to the hole suddenly. The light hadn't gone out.

"Haley?" Dean asked. The young woman ignored him, taking a cautious step toward the hole.

"Get out." She said softly. For a minute, Dean didn't know if she was talking to them or the spirit that seemed to be lurking in the hole. Then she spun around to face him, "We have to get out, now!" She cried. She ran to Sam's side, helping him (with Dean's much needed help) to his feet. "Now!" She repeated, shouting almost in Dean's ear in case he hadn't gotten the message. If he hadn't before, he definitely did now, and they began running in an awkward way toward the door.

It slammed shut in front of them. Dean groaned. _Not one single fucking break. _He thought. They turned as one (they had to, they were all leaning on each other) to face the demon that had been released from wherever the hell it had been.

'_You weren't thinking of leaving so soon, were you?_' A sinister voice filled the room. '_Not when I worked so hard to bring you here?_' A clawed hand suddenly reached out of the hole, so fast and so unexpected that all three hunters jumped and gave a gasp of startled shock. As they watched, a second hand reached out, followed by arms, a head, that of a man, though his eyes were… horrifying, and instead of hair he seemed to have a wild lion's mane, and then came the barely clothed torso, and finally the lower half of his body. The picture in John's journal hadn't done Heartsbane justice; he was truly a horror-inducing freak of nature. He stood there, hunched over, sucking in and releasing such ragged breaths it sounded almost as if he was choking. He smiled, a wicked, fang-filled smile that sent shiver's up Haley's spine.

"Actually, we were." Dean said. He lifted his gun, and pulled the trigger.

Haley groaned. "I told you not to fire like there was no tomorrow." She said.

"It's not my fault there were so many of them." Dean said. "We'd still be fighting them off if I hadn't shot just about every one of them."

'_As much as I'm enjoying this conflict,_' Heartsbane interrupted the bickering hunters. They gave a startled jump and turned to look at him. '_I seem to recall that I am the one you should be directing your attentions toward._' With the slightest of gestures from Heartsbane, Haley and Dean were lifted off the ground and hurled in opposite directions, crashed into the dirt walls at either end of the room.

* * *

Sam lost his balance, having no one to support him anymore, and fell to his knees. He threw his arms forward and landed weakly on them to save himself a little dignity and not fall flat on his face. His whole body shook with the effort of staying in that position. He felt like he hadn't slept or eaten in days; unconsciousness beckoned for him to give in. 

'_Give in Sam, all you have to do is surrender and it will all end._' No, wait. That wasn't unconsciousness. Unconsciousness more often then not sounded like Jess. No, that was crazy. Was he going crazy? He felt like he was. He needed to sleep. Nothing made sense anymore. '_Perhaps you are in need of a little persuasion?_' _To do what?_ Sam wondered. He was jolted from his thoughts as a scream filled his ears. He groaned, covering his ears, and falling forwards as he did, since his arms were no longer holding him up.

"Sam…" Was that Dean's voice? "Sam… help… her." Sam lifted his head out of the dirt. He could hear sobbing, a woman sobbing and crying.

"Help her?" Sam asked. Through the cloudy haze of unconsciousness that was slowly descending on his brain, something about the urgency in Dean's voice told him he had to do something. If only he knew what.

A second scream filled his ears, followed by more anguished cries.

"Haley?" That name meant something to him. He wasn't aware of what he was doing now. He didn't remember somehow pulling himself to his feet. He didn't remember finding the gun he'd taken from Haley. But there they both were. "Where is he?" He asked. He felt like it was someone else asking, someone else lifting the gun and moving the aim around the room.

"Aim for me." Haley choked. Sam blinked. He thought he'd seen… a shadow. Something not completely black. "Aim at my voice."

"But isn't that where you are?" Sam asked. Nothing was making sense.

"Just do it." Haley begged. "Please, trust me."

"Trust?" He asked. He hadn't last night. He hadn't earlier that morning. He turned away, closing his eyes tight, and pulled the trigger.

In the state his body was in, the force of the bullet being ejected from the small gun threw him off his feet. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

"Trust?" Sam's voice was like a whisper. Haley gasped for air, Heartsbane's hand on her throat, a mad glint in his eye. The last few minutes made little sense to her; last she remembered was being thrown across the room like a truck had hit her; without all the injuries. 

To her right, she could hear Dean gasping for air, an invisible grip encircling his throat, holding him barely an inch off the ground.

She been waiting, standing… kneeling on edge with every fiber of her being. And then she'd felt the tingling. _I hope this works._ Was he last thought as she brought her knee up between Heartsbane's legs as hard and as fast as she could.

The hold on her throat was released and she fell backwards. All this happened in about a second, and less then a second later, Sam fired the gun.

It hit Heartsbane square in the chest, right where Haley's head had been barely a second earlier. Heartsbane roared in surprise and fury as the silver bullet penetrated his chest, hitting him square in the heart. Flames burst from the hole the bullet had made, and quickly spread across his body, the snapping and hissing of burning flesh mixing in with the screams of pain and fury escaping Heartsbane's lips.

Not wanting to end up blinded like Sam had been, Haley moved quickly, rolling backwards and coming back to her feet. For a split second, her eyes darted from Sam to Dean. Sam was unconscious, with his eyes closed. Dean was conscious, and trying to recover from almost being strangled by Heartsbane. Haley launched herself at Dean as Heartsbane's body exploded. Both of them hit the ground with less then a second to spare.

Heartsbane's final cry held on the air for a moment. Haley and Dean both laid there, both hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion.

"Now that's what I call heart burn." Dean said weakly. Haley responded with a just-as-weak laugh. That was the last thing either of them remembered before exhaustion overwhelmed them, leaving all three hunters unconscious.

**

* * *

A/N: So, tell me what you think. I re-wrote this chapter twice, trying to get it right. I'm still not entirely sure it was any good, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. And keep an eye out, cause there's a couple of surprises waiting for you in the next chapter. Also, if anyone's interested in being my beta reader, that'd be really appreciated (my old beta either doesn't come on anymore or our times have changed). As always, reviews make a happy author which makes faster updates. And you all want that don't you?**


	14. Unfinished Business

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: Er… No, I don't own Supernatural. Stop bothering me!

Chapter 13 – Unfinished Business

* * *

She felt like she was being suffocated, but not from lack of air. There was evil surrounding her, blocking out all light. She tried to move, but it weighed down on her body like a dozen sacks of flour. 

Her eyes snapped open. She took in a deep breath of air, and sat up. She scanned the room for the source of the evil. She'd felt it for hours but hadn't the strength to fight back until now. She gave a startled gasp when her eyes fell on the figure by the door (which she was sure had been unoccupied seconds earlier), before she recognized who it was.

"Sam," she said, letting out a relieved breath, "I thought… Never mind, there's something in here and it… and it's…" She stopped. She felt the evil reached out like two sickly hands and close around her body, making it almost impossible to breathe. Sam's lips twisted into a smile. He was dress in nothing but a hospital gown, and there was a trail of blood running down his arm where a drip may have been connected. What frightened Haley the most was how aware of what was happening he seemed. She knew (or hoped she knew) for a fact that Sam wasn't evil, so, to her knowledge, that only left possession.

"So clever…" Sam whispered, taking a step towards her. "But not clever enough." His smile never left as he moved towards her. The evil emanating from was paralyzing Haley; she hadn't thought it possible for a human being, even one who was possessed to generate enough evil to actually leave another human being as weak as she had become. It didn't make any sense.

_But then again, since when do things about this job have to make sense? _She thought to herself. She tried to open her mouth, to say something, call for help, anything. But then, what help could anyone else bring her? They weren't even forewarned of the possible power this demon, whatever it was, could channel through Sam's body.

"He's not here." Sam said, reaching the side of Haley's hospital bed. She blinked, unsure what he meant by that. "We're all alone… no one can help you." Haley's eyes widened. She remembered hearing those words. Back in the tunnel.

_With the slightest of gestures from Heartsbane, Haley and Dean were lifted off the ground and hurled in opposite directions, crashed into the dirt walls at either end of the room._

_Haley groaned as she hit the wall, and crashed to the floor beneath her. She groaned, holding her hand to her head as she panic (panic she couldn't make sense of) flooded her mind. Before she could collect herself, she felt herself being lifted once more, and then pulled roughly back toward Heartsbane, where she was dropped unceremoniously ion the floor in front of him._

_The demon smiled down at her in a horrifying way as he forced her into a kneel in front of him._

_And then she felt like her head split open, letting in thoughts and feelings she didn't recognize, many of which she wished she'd never seen. She screamed, trying to block out the horrifying thoughts as they flooded her mind._

_As quickly as the thoughts had come, they were gone, and she collapsed forward, Heartsbane breaking her fall by catching her by her chin, and lifting her so that she looked him in the eyes._

'We're all alone…_' A voice in her head, and more images flooding her mind. The voice sounded familiar, but amidst the chaos she couldn't recognize it. '_No one can help you._'_

It had been Sam's voice she'd heard in her mind. How could she have seen, or more appropriately, heard, the future?

Haley realized Sam was running a finger down her jaw line. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of lust and desire. A second later she was overwhelmed by disgust at what she had just felt. She had to stay focused. She had to…

Sam leaned in closer, his lips caressing the side of her neck. Her skin tingled when she felt his tongue brush lightly against her neck. She tried to fight him off. But that evil still weighed down against her.

"Ch…" She gasped.

"What's that?" Sam whispered, his lips moving.

"Chri… Christo." She gasped. Sam's lips stopped moving, and he pulled back, that unnerving, maddened smile spreading on his face again.

"Haley, Haley, Haley… that only works against demons." He said. Haley's eyes widened. If he wasn't being possessed, then what was wrong with him?

"Don't you know?" He asked. "Can't you feel him?" Haley blinked. His eyes seemed to go blank for a second, and Haley's head suddenly felt like it was being split open. At the same time, Sam began rubbing his temples furiously. After a minute, he shook his head, turning his attention back to Haley.

'…_she will walk amongst the dead, as evil stands beside her._' His lips weren't moving, but the voice that wasn't quite his voice seemed to fill the room. '_The blood of her heart will stain her hands, and the darkness shall feed upon it to rise from its bonds._'

"What?" Haley managed.

Sam's mouth was opened, but the cackling that escaped it wasn't his voice. "You truly do not know?" He asked. It was Heartsbane that spoke. He was speaking through Sam somehow without possessing him.

"What… do you… want?" Haley managed. Heartsbane smiled through Sam's lips.

"He want's my heart." Sam said, but he said it like he was proud, which Haley couldn't understand. "The one they fed him wasn't worthy."

"Do you always talk about yourself in the third person?" She asked.

"I'm talking about Heartsbane." Sam growled leaning forward. "Who're you talking about?" He reached forward. "Such beauty. Wasted." She saw a knife in his other hand.

"I'd prefer it stayed that way." She said. Hit with a sudden desire to stay alive and unharmed, she swung around, leg swinging off the side of the bed and kicking Sam's out from under him, causing him to crash to the floor.

Haley sat up, wishing desperately for something she could use as a weapon. Although that would mean attacking Sam, something she didn't really want to do. "Sorry, Sam." She said quietly, and hit him lightly in the square of the back with her heel. He gasped and fell flat on his face.

She started to climb out of bed, and winced when she felt a sharp pain in her arm. She looked down and groaned when she saw the long tube that was connected to the needle stuck in her arm at one end, and the fluids hanging above her at the other. Closing her eyes, clenching her teeth, she pulled at the tube. It may not have been the smartest thing to do, but she wasn't looking for smart right at that moment. She let out a small gasp as the needle came free, allowing a small trickle of blood to start trailing out.

She climbed out of the bed and knelt down next to Sam, rolling him over. His eyes were closed, but somehow Haley knew he wasn't really unconscious, which meant she was prepared when his eyes snapped open and his hand shot for her throat. She caught hold of both his wrists. He smiled, then brought his leg up and around her waist, gripped onto her with it, and used her as leverage to flip them over, putting Sam on top, legs either side of hers, pinning them together, and arms holding her hands against the floor.

"You can't beat me; you can't beat him." He smiled calmly down at her as she tried to push his arms off of her hands. Needless to say, she was failing miserably.

"Maybe not." Haley said, giving up with her hands. "But you know, someone once told me that if you can't play nice, well…" She brought her knee up between his legs. He gasped, eyes widening, and the pressure on her hands slackened as he rolled off of her, gasping and holding his hands to his crotch. "You get the idea." Haley said. She lifted her legs, half rolled back, and then rolled forwards, using the momentum to pull herself back to her feet. Sam continued to gasp, or maybe he was trying to say something. Either way, he just glared at her from where he was laying.

Haley sat down on the bed and watched him as he tried to recover from her low blow. "You know, I'm pretty sure you're still there Sam, whether you're aware of what your doing or not." She shook her head. "Now, how to get you back out."

"I… am." Sam gasped. "I'm… not… being possessed." He rolled onto his side, glaring at her. "You fight dirty, you know that?"

"Hey, I'm not the one acting on behalf of a demon." Haley said. "If you're really not being possessed, then an exorcism isn't going to work. But if you are…" She decided to try it on the off chance that he was lying. She'd memorized an exorcism years ago, and it had stayed in her mind to this day. "_EGO expello vos tergum ut incendia of Abyssus ex unde vos venit!_" She said it quietly but with strength. Sam gasped as she'd started and then he growled and started writhing about on the floor, hand clenching and unclenching, mouth working but no sound coming out. But as soon as Haley had finished, he stopped. He opened his eyes, looking at her, and a grin spread across his face. But it didn't reach his eyes.

"Nice try, but I told you, I'm not possessed." He got to his feet, slowly, somewhat awkwardly.

Haley got to her feet, once again wishing for something she could use as a weapon. Sam lunged for her. She grabbed a pillow from her bed and swung with all he strength, hitting him in the side of the face and sending him staggering into the wall.

He turned back to look at her. And then realization dawned on Haley.

"You can see." She whispered. He smiled in a scary sort of way.

"I can do a lot more then that." He ran at her, and before she could do anything to stop him she was bent over the bed, with his hands around her throat.

She was too shocked by the sudden attack to do anything about it before he got a good hold on her throat. She struggled to regain control as she beat her hands against his arms and chest, but after a minute her struggling weakened. She gasped for air, but his hold on her throat was too tight.

_No… _Haley's eyes widened.

"Sam?" She whispered. Sam narrowed his eyes at her.

She felt a sudden surge of adrenaline pass through her like an electric shock, and her hands flew up, taking hold of Sam's head, one hand on either side. His eyes widened in shock, and he suddenly tried to pull back. But it was as if someone had glued them together; neither of them could pull from the other.

And that's when the voice's started. Hundreds of them, crying, screaming, yelling, all filled with pain and fear. Haley bit back a cry of pain as her head was filled with them, and to her surprise, Sam seemed to be having the same reaction. His body was twitching and shaking, and he had a blank look on his face, like it wasn't Haley he was looking at.

"What… are you… doing?" He managed. He snarled, trying to tighten his slackened grip on Haley's throat, but like Haley, he seemed unable to focus on anything but the voices screaming inside their heads.

And then for a split second, there was no Sam, and Haley saw Heartsbane as he had been back at the Dime residence, and he was writhing in her hands, trying desperately to break free. And then with a single, ear-splitting scream that echoed inside both their minds, Sam and Haley were thrown apart, Sam crashed to the floor a few feet away while Haley slumped back on the bed, choking and gasping for air before passing out.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know, short chapter. I had to jump forward an hour or so, and decided I didn't want to do that in the same chapter. So, you guys (well, if there's still more then one of you) will just have to suffer and wonder what's going to happen with Sam and Haley while I write the next chapter. Until next time, Cyas.**


	15. The Truth of a Lie

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do, however, own Haley, she's all mine.

Review Answers:

_Ghostwriter_: As always, nothing much to sayexcept thanks for the reviews.

_Chase El Toliso_: Thanks for the reviews, glad you're liking it. And to your third review, yeah, I thought that seemed like the kind of thing they'd say. Now if I could just remember where I wrote it, lol.

_Maygin_: There's nothing wrong with saying wowzer. I say it sometimes myself. I'm glad you're liking this story, but I can't promise I'm not going to bring some romance into it later. But if I do, it'll be in much later chapters. Until then, buckle your seat belts, I intend to make this a bumpy ride. Oh, and the answer to your question about Sam and Heartsbane is answered in this chapter. Again, I'm glad you liked the story, now read on to find out what happens.

Chapter 14 – The Truth of a Lie

* * *

Dean was awake, but he didn't want to open his eyes. It would be so good if he could just lay there for the rest of his life and let the world pass by without him. Just rest, let his body recover from all those sleepless nights and near-fatal injuries. Unfortunately, Winchester's very rarely get what they need or desire. 

His eyes snapped open as voices reached his ears. He sat bolt upright, hand reaching under the pillow and closing around a bunch of sheet. He growled, realizing his trusty knife wasn't there. He looked wildly around the room for the source of the voices, and saw two cops standing over by one of the beds. He leaned sideways to try and get a look at who was in the bed.

"Sam?" He murmured. One of the cops looked up, having obviously heard Dean's voice. He walked over.

"Do you know this man?" He asked Dean, who nodded quickly.

"He's my brother." He said. "What happened, why're you standing over him like that?" He demanded.

"What's your name?" The cop asked. Holding back a cry of frustration, Dean answered.

"Dean… Hayle." He said, catching himself just before he said his real last name. "What is happening with my brother?" His voice was tight.

"Son, your brother tried to kill a woman." The cop said. "Haley Evans… do you or your brother know her at all?" He asked. Dean thought fast, trying to remember the cover story he'd given the doctor… back whenever it was, about Haley.

"She's our cousin." He said. "Second cousin actually… and let me tell you something: Sam would never try and kill her." Still thinking. Why would he never try and kill her? "They've been best friends for years." _They've hated each other since they first met. Sam wouldn't really try to kill her would he?_

"Thank you for your input, Mr. Hayle, but he was found not far from your cousin, and there were bruises on her throat where he tried to strangle her."

"But Sam would never- I mean, he wouldn't- they were-" He was tripping over his words now. He didn't know what he could say to get Sam out of this. He stopped, taking a deep breath. "Can I see her? Haley I mean." He said.

"Well, uh, I…" The cop looked at his partner, who shrugged. "I don't see why not." He said. "Are you fit enough to walk on your own, or-"

"I can go on my own." Dean snapped, sitting up, and doing his best to hide the slight feeling of vertigo he got as he got to his feet. He put his hand around the stand his drip was latched onto, and suddenly realized he didn't know where she was. "Uh… could one of you point me in the right direction?" He asked.

After being given instructions on where to go, he left the room and went in search of the one Haley was in. Thankfully, right at that moment they appeared to be the only patients there, except for a comatose man who currently had no visitors, but Dean doubted he was going to eavesdrop on what he needed to discuss with Haley.

"Haley, wake up." He said, not bothering with being gentle. There was no time for gentle.

Haley's eyes snapped open and she lunged forward, hand reaching out for his throat; he'd expected the move, and caught hold of her wrist before her hand came too close.

"It's me, Dean." He said. Haley's eyes were blank and staring for a moment, and then she blinked and turned to look at him.

"Something's wrong." She said matter-of-factly. "What's wrong?" She asked, seeming to be normal again.

"What's wrong is it looks like the cops are going to charge Sam with the attempted murder of you." Dean said, releasing her wrist. Haley cringed.

"Oh… yes, that's bad." She said.

"Bad… bad? Haley, my brother's about to be arrested for something he… technically didn't do." He exclaimed. "I don't think bad quite covers it."

"Right." Haley said. She started to get out of bed, thankful to see a bandage around part of her arm instead of a tube sticking out of it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what're you doing?" Dean asked.

"I'm going to get Sam out of trouble." She said.

"And how do you plan on doing that? "Dean asked, following Haley as she walked somewhat unsteadily out of the room.

"By doing what I do best." She said. "Lie while actually telling the truth." She looked up and down the hall to make sure no one was there to stop her, and then turned back to Dean. "Where's Sam? No, wait, where're the cops?" She asked.

"This way." Dean said, helping Haley, despite her protests, to walk in the direction of the room he and Sam shared with the cops and the comatose man.

"Can I… oh, Mr. Hayle, and Miss Evans?" He asked, making a guess at who Haley was. "Should you be out of bed?" He asked.

"Just what are you doing to the man who saved my life?" Haley demanded, gesturing toward Sam.

"Saved your-? Ma'am, you seem to be a little confused. We found him in your room, with you unconscious and very-nearly dead from lack of oxygen." The cop said.

"It wasn't Sam that tried to kill me." Haley said. Mostly truth; it had been Heartsbane acting through Sam's body. "He helped me fight off whoever it was that tried to kill me." Also mostly true; she'd heard Sam's voice right before she'd reached out and touched his face, and that had been what had given her the strength to do it. "And before you say I hit my head, I know I didn't because I was lying on the mattress when I passed out."

The two cops seemed a little flabbergasted by her explanation. They stood there, mouth's open, not quite sure what to say. Dean had an impressed look on his face as his eyes went from Haley, to the cops, to Sam and then back to Haley again.

* * *

Haley sat down with a sigh of relief after nearly fifteen minutes of a 'make it up as you go' testimony she'd had to give to the cops. She'd taken a few moments here and there pretending to feel shaken up while she tried to think of what could happen next, while trying to keep as close to the truth as possible. Thankfully, in the end, the cops believed her, and now she was sitting in a chair on one side of Sam's bed, and Dean was on the other side. The doctor had given them the okay to leave, so long as they kept up their fluids for the next couple of days. But Dean was not willing to leave Sam's side for more then a few minutes, and Haley couldn't be bothered going out to find a motel for just herself. 

"So, explain to me how saying Sam helped fight off your attack was truth, when, for all intents and purposes, he was your attacker." Dean said, not giving Haley half a minute to relax.

"I think I can explain that." Sam said, sitting up and leaning against his propped up pillows. He was looking from Haley to Dean, like he had been since he'd woken up and had been able to make out vague shapes and shadows moving in the darkness that he was still trapped in. The doctor had confirmed that his sight was improving, and that, so long as he didn't strain his eyes over the next couple of days, they should continue to improve.

"Oh, please do," Haley said. "And while you're at it, you might want to explain why you were attacking me if Heartsbane _wasn't_ possessing you."

"The two were, in a way, interconnected." Sam said.

"So are you going to tell us or are you going to sit there feeling proud that you know and we don't?" Dean asked in mock-impatience.

Sam smiled like he was thinking of sitting there feeling proud, but obviously thought better of it. "Telepathy; or something along those lines, at least." Sam explained. "That's how he was able to reach me from wherever it was we banished him to in the tunnel." Haley nodded, as if it all made sense. Dean blinked, shook his head, and then nodded.

"Continue." He said.

"For all intents and purposes, it was me who was attacking you Haley." He said, and Haley heard the apology in his voice. "He wasn't possessing me, he was just… planting thoughts in my mind, for want of a better term. I thought I wanted to kill you. I think… I think he might have found an opening for that because of how much we dislike each other."

"Dislik_ed_; past tense." Haley interrupted, her way of saying she forgave him. He smiled thankfully at her, and continued.

"I'm willing to bet that a good deal of those people back at the house were under the same sort of control, only thinking they wanted to serve him." He explained. "I suppose it's a good thing you were only shooting to wound, huh Dean?" He said.

"Yeah, guess so." Dean said. Haley suddenly felt her insides churning; she felt cold, like someone had draped a wet blanket over her shoulders.

"Oh my-" Her breathing became rapid. She swallowed, trying to push down the bile that rose in her throat. She spun around fell to her hands and knees, and vomited up what little was in her stomach, which was mostly liquid, onto the clean hospital floor in front of her.

"Haley, what's-?" Dean started, and then he must've realized what was wrong. Haley looked up from the floor, tears on the edge of her eyes.

"I killed her…" She whispered hoarsely.

"What- Killed who?" Sam asked, not really knowing what was going on. "What's happening? What's wrong?" He asked, looking from the Haley's general direction (she must've been too far away for him to make out) and then to Dean.

"Haley… shot someone, at the house." Dean said.

"A girl…" Haley choked. "An innocent seventeen-year-old girl who wasn't responsible for being there. And I killed her without batting an eyelash." She felt like she was going to vomit again.

"We were both in a hurry, we didn't have time to stop and wonder why she was there." Dean said. "She attacked, we panicked, you shot." He said.

"It doesn't make it feel any less horrible." Haley whispered, looking back down at the floor. She groaned, another migraine starting up. "I am not overreacting!" She snapped turning back to look at him. He gave her a shocked look, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam narrow his, looking at her. She shook her head getting to her feet. "Excuse me." She gasped, running from the room. In her minds eye, she could see that girl lying on the threshold of Father Dime's house, staring up at them with sightless eyes, with those three bullet holes in her chest. She couldn't get that image out of her head.

* * *

Sam sat on the bed, his eyes still narrowed, as he tried to make sense of what Haley had just said. Something had been nagging at him since he'd woken up, and slowly, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place. How had Haley done what she'd done to Heartsbane? He'd been wondering that since he'd woken up. The memories up until that moment were fragmented, probably a side effect of the having a demon telepathically force him to do things. 

But he remembered reaching out to Haley, that tiny part of himself that had been locked away in his subconscious that Heartsbane couldn't force to do his bidding. He reached out and somehow, he'd touched Haley's mind, probably another (probably unforeseen on Heartsbane's part) side effect of the telepathic connection Heartsbane had created with him.

And that's when she'd reached up and touched him, not just physically, but mentally as well. She stepped into his mind as easily as if she'd opened a door, and through that door had come all manner of devastating, horrifying, excruciating feelings and memories, some were his, memories of Jess's death, the fire, his mother. Some were Haley's; he'd tried not to focus too much on them (though in truth focus had been a thing long forgotten in those few seemingly-never-ending moments). But most of them were Heartsbanes, or to be more specific, Heartsbane's victims.

He started thinking of other times Haley had acted strange. The one that stood out the most vividly in his memory was of back at the hotel. He hadn't seen her, but he'd heard her, when she crashed through the door when he and Dean had been arguing. And then she'd mirrored exactly how he'd been feeling. Right before the argument had started, Dean had been babying him like an invalid. And then Haley had gone and shouted out exactly what he'd been feeling.

And then when they'd started fighting. The angrier he'd gotten at her, the more she'd attacked him, but almost as soon as he'd started the calm down…

"Oh my god." He said softly. He saw something move quickly amidst the darkness. Movement always caught his attention.

"What is it?" Dean asked, once again by his side.

"I think… no, I'm almost positive… Haley's empathic." He said. He was sure Dean was standing there, dumbstruck, blinking his eyes rapidly and trying to convince himself he'd heard Sam wrong.

"Come again." He said.

"Empathy, as in feeling other people's pain and emotions." Sam explained, feeling a little excited about his discovery, not really stopping to think that he could be completely wrong.

"Yeah, I know what empathy is, but… I mean… empathy?" He said. "A real life person? It's like she stepped right out of Charmed."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, closed it again, and then opened it again. "Dean, you hunt evil for a living," he said, momentarily straying from the subject, "where do you find the time, not to mention the need, to watch three women do it on TV?" He asked.

Dean stammered for a few minutes. "Back to Haley." He finally said, trying to turn the discussion away from his TV habits. "What makes you so sure Haley has empathy?" He asked.

"Haven't you noticed how she seems to know what we're feeling almost before we do?" He asked. "Like right now, weren't you thinking she was overreacting just a little?"

"No." Dean said. Sam crossed his arms, giving his brother a disbelieving look. Or he hoped it was his brother he was looking at; he might have been looking at a chair for all he knew. "Yes, okay, maybe just a little." He said.

"And she shouted it out to us like we'd both told her she was overreacting." Sam said. "And all those migraines she's been getting? What if they're symptoms of emotions that haven't actually reached sensing level. Or maybe extreme stress. She almost passed out when we were arguing back at the motel. Tell me you didn't feel pissed at me." He said.

"Okay, so I felt a little irritated with you." Dean said. Sam continued the disbelieving look. "Okay, so I wanted to knock your block off for being such an ass, so sue me."

"Not the point," Sam said, "Imagine feeling double that echoing in your head. Don't you think that'd become a little overwhelming?"

Dean was silent for a few moments, and Sam was pretty sure he'd won.

"If you don't believe me, bring her back here and I'll prove it." He said. After a moment, he heard a muttered "Okay" followed by slow footsteps. Sam suddenly realized he was being left alone, and for a minute wished he hadn't suggested to Dean that he go and find Haley.

* * *

Haley sat on one of the benches outside the hospital, eyes closed, taking in slow breaths as she tried to stop seeing that girl's face in her mind. She gave a start when someone sat down beside her, but saw it was just Dean. 

"Hey." Dean said, sitting there with his chin resting on his hands while he looked at Haley.

"Hey." She said back, not looking at him.

"I've killed people, y'know, Haley." He said. "And I've lost a lot more. People I should've protected. I know what you're going through."

"Do you?" Haley asked. She her head, now staring right into his eyes. "Do you know what it's like to shoot an innocent girl?" She asked. Dean took in a short breath.

"No." He admitted. "But that doesn't mean I don't understand. Innocent or not, she was going to kill us." He said.

"You don't kill someone in self-defense, Dean." Haley said, biting her lower lip. "I should have been more careful. I should've aimed better. I should have-"

"Don't." Dean said. "Don't do that to yourself. What's past is past." She turned to look at him again, but he continued. "You did what you had to do, and now you have to deal with it and move on." Haley opened her mouth, but Dean didn't let her talk. He continued on. "Come on, Haley, you can't just sit there beating yourself up about something you can't do anything about. If it were me who shot her and I was sitting here whining about something that happened too fast for me to do anything about, would you let me sulk or would you do something about it?"

"I'd-"

"You'd do something about it, and don't say anything different." Dean said. "Because you care about me. And you care about Sam. And we care about you, which is why I'm not going to let you sit here and sulk." He took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. Shelooked up at Dean for a moment, and then smiled.

"Thanks." She said softly. Dean grinned.

"No problem." He said. He let go of her hand, and gestured back to the hospital doors. "You know, I didn't actually come out here to play therapist. Sam sent me out because there's something he wants to tell us."

"What?" She asked. "Does he want to tell us, I mean." Dean shrugged.

"You'll find out when we get there." He said. He led her back to the ward Sam was in, and closed the door behind them.

"Okay, what is it you wanted to tell me?" Haley asked.

"Turn around." Sam said. Haley blinked, looking at him. He obviously didn't see either of those actions, so she put them into verbal form.

"What?" She asked in an incredulous tone.

"Will you please turn around, and Dean, come over here, and don't take your eyes off her." Sam said. Dean did as he was told, walking over to Sam's bed, and then turning around and watching Haley. After a moment's hesitation, she turned around.

"Okay." She said. Barely a second later, she let out a small yelp and jumped a foot in the air as something squeezed her behind. "Sam, what the hell was-?" She started, and then she realized she wasn't the only one who had said it. Spinning around, and saw Dean and Sam both sitting where they'd been, Dean's mouth hanging open while he rubbed his sore buttocks.

"Proof enough for you?" Sam asked, turning with a smile to his brother.

"Did you have to pinch me there?" He asked. "And while I'm at it, couldn't you have told me what you were going to do?" He added.

"Would someone please explain to me what this is all about?" Haley cut across Sam as he started to speak. The two brothers had seemed to have forgotten she was even there.

"Right," Sam said. "Haley, have you noticed at all lately…" He seemed to be trying to find the right words to explain why exactly she had just felt him pinch Dean. "Okay, let me try that again. Why do you think you felt so cold back in that cage, when you obviously still had plenty of clothes on?"

"How did you-?"

"And back at the motel, when you and I were fighting. What brought on your sudden urge to try and dislocate my jaw?" He asked.

"Well, I… I guess I-"

"And why do you think that you were the only one that was overwhelmed by Heartsbane's evil when no one else seemed to notice it at all?" He finished. Haley opened her mouth, and realized she didn't have an answer.

"What do you think?" She asked after a moment of silence. Sam took a breath. The deep breath before the plunge.

"Haley, I think you're empathic." He said. Haley had pretty much the same reaction as Dean had had. Dumbstruck look, followed by rapid blinking, followed by the mind working overtime to try and tell her she'd heard wrong.

And then, with a faint "Oh" she fainted.

* * *

**A/N: So, what do you think? I really need opinions on this turn of events. A big thankyou to the people who reviewed in the past two days, those reviews helped motivate me to finish this chapter, which happened about two hours after I'd finished reading them.**


	16. The Way Back Home

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: (Insert some witty remark here) I don't own Supernatural, but I'm too lazy to put in something witty right now. I do own Haley though, and I'm very proud of my creation. Oh, and I also own any and all mistakes you find, because I still have no beta.

Background: This chapter is going to find it's way into the beginning of the episode "Home". Keep an eyes out for the dream that signifies it's beginning.

Review Answers:

_EvilTC_: Wow, thankyou for loving my work. Or did you mean Supernatural in general? If you meant the latter, I've just embarrassed myself. Oh well, not the first time. Hmmm, while I figured my fanfic must be good, since the closest I've come to criticism is some friendly advice, but I never would've thought it was _that_ good. I think I just felt my ego inflate. End your suffering, eh? Like, with a gun? Oh, you mean make a new chapter, don't you? Well, here it is. Here's hoping you continue to enjoy my stories, cause I've got plenty of ideas to go. No, I lie, I'm running out, but I'll think of something.

_Wildcat023_: Wow, people love my work. I'm so touched. Also a little touched in the head, but we don't need to discuss that. I'm glad you liked the empathy thing, I was afraid it was too much like Charmed, although the word empathy _is_ in the dictionary. Anyway, here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 15 – The Way Back Home

* * *

The doctors didn't let Sam out for another two days. In that time, several things happened. Sam's eye sight continued to improve. He was now able to distinguish objects, though everything was still really dark; much to his annoyance and embarrassment, he'd been given a cane of some sort to use to get around, so as to running into anything. He'd also been given a pair of tinted glasses, so as not to strain his eyes. Of course, no one said he specifically had to wear them. Only that it was a good idea to do so. 

Another thing that happened was Haley's attempt at denying she was empathic. That attempt failed when Dean had come back with Sam's glasses, and Haley had let loose a long string of insults that, in Dean's opinion, a young woman like her had no right knowing.

The last thing that happened was Dean finding out his precious car had been towed, and he'd scoured the local phonebook for all the towing companies in an attempt to recover it. It was really quite amusing for Haley and Sam to watch, until Dean had found it and told Haley to go pick it up because he didn't want to leave Sam. Haley had done so only because she was on the verge of falling into an uncontrollable fit of giggles because she was feeling Sam's amusement on top of her own.

And so, there she was, driving back to the hospital in the impala, and pondering what she'd learned over the last couple of days. The most frustrating thing about her… power, by far, was her inability to turn it on and off. One minute, she could be feeling nothing at all, and the next she'd burst into tears, and cry out in pain or joy. The hospital was no the ideal place for her to be staying the day after she learned she was capable of feeling other people's emotions.

Which was another reason she'd agreed to go out to get Dean's car. To put some distance between herself and the hospital for a while. Between a car accident, a baby being born, the comatose patient waking up, and Sam's glasses arriving, she was ready to lock herself in a vault and drop it into the ocean.

She'd been getting… senses of people all her life, guessing things she shouldn't have known, doing things for no logical reason, but now that she knew the cause, it seemed like it was happening a lot more then it used to. And it was driving her crazy.

And at the same time, she couldn't help remembering the joy she'd felt when that baby had been born. She'd felt so much happiness, relief and love she'd felt like she was floating off the ground. Sure, she'd gotten all giddy and had been almost intolerable for about ten minutes, but it had still been an amazing experience.

She pulled into the parking lot, and saw Dean and Sam waiting out front. Sam must've gotten tired of the hospital and decided it was time for them to leave. Haley parked the car, climbed out, and started walking over to the two brothers. As she got closer, she saw Dean say something, though she was still too far away to hear what it was he'd said. A second later, Sam swung his cane around and hit Dean in the shins with it. By then, Haley was close enough to hear what they were saying.

"Oh, look, the obsolete thing does have a use." Sam said, swinging the cane absently in his hand, an amused grin on his face, while Dean took a step away from his brother, cursing under his breath.

"Honestly, I leave you two alone for fifteen minutes and you start beating each other up." Haley said in a very motherly tone. She shook her head in mock disgust. Dean looked up at her voice, obviously realizing what her voice meant.

"How's the car?" He asked quickly.

"Gee, how am I? Well, that's so nice of you to ask Dean, considering I just went and got your car for you." Haley said. "I'm fine, I just needed to get out of the hospital for a while." She looked the two of them up and down. "I'm guessing you two did as well."

"I was fine to wait, but the big guy brandishing his stick here couldn't wait any longer." Dean said, gesturing to Sam, who grinned and changed hands with his stick in mid spin, bringing it threateningly close to Dean. Haley smiled and shook her head again.

"The car's fine." She said. "Not a dent on it." Dean gave an audible sigh of relief. "'Need's refueling though." Dean's sigh turned into a groan. They were a little short of cash as of late. Something all three of them were painfully aware of.

"I guess we're off to the nearest pub." He said. "Time to make some money."

And make some money they did. As soon as they found a place that had a pool table, they split up, dean heading straight for the pool table, while Haley sought out anybody willing to bet money in a poker game. The first few games she won with little effort. The next few games she won with no effort at all; her empathy began tapping into the other players, and she managed to work out what most of the other players felt when they were bluffing, when they thought they could win, and so on. By the end of the night, they 'earned', as Dean liked to put it, over five hundred dollars between them.

* * *

"Well, that should be enough to fill the car and get us a nice room for the night." Dean said as he finished counting up the money. "A grand total of five-hundred-and-fourteen." 

"Not bad for one night's work." Haley said. She looked around the slowly emptying pub. "Hey, have you seen Sam since we got here?" She asked, looking around the room for the younger Winchester.

"Oh, he's probably curled up in a corner with his laptop, searching for our next gig." Dean said. Haley continued to scan the room, and her jaw dropped open when her eyes finally found Sam.

"Oh my- Dean, you are not going to believe this." She pointed over to a bar. Sam was leaning against, with two or three girls sitting around him. Dean got to his feet, eyes wide with surprise.

"That's not Sam. That's a doppelganger. Or a skinwalker." Dean said. "My brother is not a chick-magnet."

"And yet there he is, with three girls hanging off of him." Haley said.

"Do I detect an air of jealousy, Haley?" Dean asked, a cocky grin on his face.

"Do I detect a fist in your face, Dean?" Haley shot back, smiling innocently. Dean's grin faltered, and Haley's smile broadened. "Do you think we should interrupt?" She asked after a moment of watching.

"Dunno… you, er… you detecting anything?" Dean asked. Haley blinked, apparently not sure what Dean was talking about for a second. Then she seemed to realize, and nodded, turning and looking directly at Sam and his admirers.

After a moment, she narrowed her eyes, focusing on the girls. Her face screwed up in concentration, but after a minute, she shook her head. "Nada, not even a tingle. I can't control it like that." She sighed. "Well, we need to leave early in the morning. I don't care if he's about to get it three times in one night, he's leaving this bar with us, and we're leaving now."

"What makes you so-?" Dean began, but after receiving a stern look from the small woman, he sort of shrank away and let her walk over and talk to Sam. He saw Sam look up as she approached, saw the somewhat nervous look on his face (he couldn't see Haley's face, so he could only presume the look on it was not pleasant), and quickly say goodbye to the girls.

"What'd you tell him?" Dean asked as Haley and Sam passed him and he quickly walked after them.

"What, are you-?" Haley shot a glare at Haley. "You said he was going to tell them-? And now he says-?"

"You know, you might want to try and finish a sentence." Haley said, smiling and gesturing to the door. "It helps people understand you." Grumbling under his breath, he walked outside, followed by Dean and then Haley.

They drove around for a while in search of a motel, finally finding a reasonably decent one, though there were only two beds per room. After a few arguments, Dean talked Haley into letting him sleep on the couch so she could have a bed.

Reluctantly, Haley crawled into the bed dean had given up for her. This was one of those moments when her empathy decided she had to be annoyed, and she was feeling what she was sure was every bit of discomfort Dean was feeling on the couch, no matter where she rolled on the bed.

But finally, after what seemed like hours, she managed to find her way into a restless sleep.

_

* * *

She was beating against the window, which despite being made of only thin glass, refused to shatter. And he could see that she was screaming as loud as she could, and yet no sound escaped the house._

Sam's eyes snapped open, and he sat bolt upright, something that seemed to happen to the Winchester brother's a lot. His breathing was rapid as the image of the woman screaming pushed its way into his minds eyes. He could see it as clearly and vividly as if he was standing right in front of her.

He looked around the room, and gave a startled gasp when he saw Haley sitting up, a blank stare directed right at him. She looked over at dean, who was still sleeping, seemingly peacefully, on the couch, though Sam guessed the discontented look on Haley's face meant he wasn't comfortable.

The young woman turned to look at Sam again. Their eyes were locked for almost a minute, neither of them blinking, and Sam suddenly realized: she knew about the nightmares. It wasn't Dean that had woken her up and caused the look of discontent. It was him, Sam, and his nightmares. Somehow, Haley must've sensed them through him. But did she actually see them.

"Did you-?" He started in a low whisper, and Haley shook her head. And just like that, her eyes closed and she laid back against the pillow on her bed, almost immediately falling asleep.

Sam was surprised and at the same time a little unnerved by how quickly Haley had fallen asleep. It seemed almost unnatural.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and laid back against his own pillows, closing his eyes, and letting sleep take him one more, but in the back of his mind was the fear of the nightmares, so it only came halfway, a restless, half-sleep.

* * *

It was early morning, maybe seven o'clock. Dean was tapping away at the computer, which alone was enough to make Haley suspicious; Sam was normally the one at the computer. But what made the scene even more suspicious to Haley as she came out of the shower was the fact that Sam was sitting on the bed, apparently oblivious to what Dean was doing, drawing in a small notepad. She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a read off of him, but there was nothing. She shook her head in frustration, and then went over to the bench where dean had left the half-filled coffee machine, and poured herself a cup. 

She turned around as Dean spoke up, "Alright, I've been cruising some websites. I think I've found a few candidates for our next gig." He said. Haley glanced over at Sam, who was now flipping through the pages of the notepad, and Haley could see that almost every page had the same drawing of some kind of strange tree.

She looked over at dean, who was taking a sip of his coffee while he scrolled down the website page, looking at some newspaper articles.

"Let's see… we've got some cattle mutilations in west Texas." He said. Haley saw him glance at Sam out of the corner of his eyes. When he saw Sam didn't' seem to be listening, and turned in the chair and faced him. "Hey." He called over to Sam like he was in another room and not about six feet away. Sam looked up from the pad after a moment.

"What?" He asked.

"Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?" Dean asked, gesturing to the laptop.

Sam still seemed distracted, looking from page to page of the notepad like he was seeing something different every time. Again, Haley tried to feel him empathically, and again all she got was a big load of nothing.

"No, I'm listening." He said distractedly. "Keep going." Haley walked over and looked at the newspaper articles over Dean's shoulder.

"Hmmm… we have people found dead in their beds, not a mark on them." Dean said.

"Okay." Came Sam's answer.

"And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head... three times." He held up his hand, showing three fingers. He waved his hand at Sam to get his attention.

"Yeah, got it." Sam said, not looking at them.

"Sam's getting my breakfast." Haley said, a small grin on her face.

"Great." Sam said, and Haley blinked. Sam looked up. "I'm sorry, what?" He asked, obviously completely unaware of what either Dean or Haley had just said. Neither of them answered him, so he turned back to the notepad before Dean or Haley could say anything, and Haley suddenly felt a rush of recognition before his emotions went mute again. She suppressed a growl of frustration. That had been real enlightening.

Sam got to his feet. "I've seen this…" He said absently, carrying the pad over to their bags and rifling through Deans.

"Seen what?" Dean asked, and Haley remembered he hadn't seen the drawing. He took another sip of his coffee, and Haley remembered her own still on the bench. She grabbed it, taking a small mouthful, and then turning her attention back to Sam as he found what he was looking for: his father's journal.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Haley asked, walking over and looking under his arm (since he was too tall for her to look over his shoulder) as he pulled a photo from a sleeve on the inside of the front cover, and walked over to Dean with the photo in one hand and the drawing notepad in the other.

"I know where we have to go next." He said, and Haley suddenly felt a mixture of foreboding and anticipation. When she realized it wasn't what she was feeling, she tried to shake herself free of it.

"Where?" Dean asked, obviously surprised Sam had figured out where to go while he had been drawing.

"Back home," Sam said, and Haley got that feeling of 'deep breath before the plunge' from Sam like she had back at the hospital. "Back to Lawrence." Dean let out a short, mirthless chuckle, and then saw the look of utter seriousness on Sam's face.

"Okay, random," he said, and Haley saw the look of apprehension on his face, "why Lawrence?" He asked, and Haley didn't need empathy to know he wasn't looking forward to hearing the answer. And after glancing at Sam's face, Haley saw that the younger brother was reluctant to give the real answer. How neither of them saw the look on the other's face, Haley could only wonder.

Finally, Sam laid the photo down on the table in front of Dean. "Alright, uh, this photo was taken out the front of our old house, right?" He asked, apprehension evident in his voice. "The house where mum died?" And suddenly Haley understood why Dean was so reluctant to enter into this subject. So that was the house where there mother had died. Haley stared at it for a long moment before she realized Dean was talking.

"Yeah, that… was our house." He said, that apprehension never leaving his face as he looked up at his brother.

"And it didn't burn down, right?" Sam asked, his eyes locked on his brother's. "Like, not completely, I mean; they rebuilt it, right?"

"Yeah, er, I guess not… what the hell are you talking about, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Okay, this is gonna sound crazy," Now Haley was worried; Sam had completely ignored the nickname Dean had called him by, and never did that. To her knowledge. Which she was pretty sure was pretty extensive. Sam took a seat in the chair opposite dean, "The people that live in our old house… I think they might be in danger." Haley was pulled from her own thoughts by those words.

"What makes you say that?" She asked. Sam shot her a look, and she realized it must be connected to the nightmare he'd had the night before. The nightmare he was obviously trying to keep from Dean.

"Sam?" Dean asked. "I wouldn't mind knowing that myself." Sam bit his lower lip, and got to his feet, heading for their bags and starting to pack.

"Could you… just, er… look, you just have to trust me on this, okay?" He said, shoving anything loose that was smaller then the coffee machine (apparently, whether it was theirs or the motel's) into the bags.

"Whoa, hold it, trust you?" Dean asked, getting to his feet and walking over to Sam, with Haley right behind him. He grabbed Sam's arm before he could put the coffee mug in the bag. "I'm sorry, man, but you're gonna have to give me a little more then that." He said.

Sam looked at his brother, trying to pull his arm out of the older man's iron grip. He looked worried, maybe about how Dean would react if he did tell the truth, and maybe about how much longer dean would have to hold on before he broke Sam's arm.

"I… it's just… I can't really explain." He said, trying once again to pull his arm from Dean's grip. Seeing he wasn't having much luck, Haley stepped around Dean and pried his fingers from Sam's arm. Dean gave a start, and quickly let go, obviously not realizing he'd been holding onto Sam's arm so tight.

"Tough," He said, not letting Sam of without a better explanation, "I'm not going anywhere until you do." Sam took a step back from his brother, and Haley could tell by the look in his eyes that Dean had finally won the discussion.

"I… I have these… nightmares." Sam said. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, I've noticed." He said. Sam bit his lower lip, nodding his head, looking at the floor.

"Well, sometimes, they… come true." He glanced up at his brother, who had a look on his face that appeared to be a mixture of shock, disbelief, and fear.

"I-I'm sorry, what?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Look, Dean. I dreamt about Jessica's death… for days, before it happened." Sam said. Haley gave Sam a shocked look. That, she had not known. Dean sighed, and Haley felt a wave of confusion, worry, desperation, even a hint of anger.

"Sam, people have weird dreams." He said, walking over to Sam's bed and taking a seat, not looking at Sam or Haley. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Haley could tell how much he wanted to believe it _was_ just a coincidence, and at the same time knew everything Sam was saying was the truth.

"No," Sam said, shaking his head, "I dreamt about the blood dripping, about her on the ceiling, the fire," it seemed like he was panicking, like he was rushing to explain everything to Dean before he denied it completely and couldn't accept it was real. "But I didn't do anything because…" He dropped down onto the bed beside Dean. "Because I didn't want to believe it." He was on the verge of crying, Haley realized. He'd been carrying this guilt around for how long? Her thoughts were interrupted as Sam turned and grabbed the photo from the table. "And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house and a woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right? Right?"

Dean was searching for words he knew he didn't have. He shrugged, refusing to look at his brother. "I don't know." He said.

Sam turned to look at his brother. "You don't- What do you mean, you don't know, Dean?" There was disbelief and maybe a bit of disgust in his voice. "This… this woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Jessica and Mom."

What little Dean had been holding on by snapped, and he was on his feet, halfway across the room, before he even knew what he was doing. His breathing was fast and shallow. He turned back to look at his brother. "Just… just slow down, would ya?" He asked, looking at his brother, and glancing at Haley every few seconds. Sam gave him a hopeful look, it was so innocent, like the face of a child, and Haley felt Dean's guilt at trying to shatter that strange hope. "I mean, first you tell me you've got 'The Shinning'," at that, a somewhat hurt look crossed Sam's face, but it was gone too quick for Dean to notice, though not for Haley, "And then you tell me that I've got to go back home, especially when..." He stopped, no longer able to keep the fear out of his voice, no longer able to keep the near-panic out of his eyes as he looked from Sam to Haley, then back to Sam.

"When what?" Haley asked, taking a step toward him. Dean sighed in resignation, collapsing into a sitting position onto Haley's bed, not facing either of them. Sam stepped up off his own bed, and crawled onto Haley's bed, sitting on his knees beside his brother.

"When what, Dean?" He echoed Haley's question. Dean looked at his brother.

"When I swore to myself I'd never go back there." He looked at the floor, as if he was ashamed of himself for admitting it.

Sam gave a sigh beside his brother, looking down at his hand. Haley took a seat on Dean's other side.

"Look… Dean, we have to check this out." Sam said, looking back up at Dean, who was still staring intently at his own feet. "Just to make sure."

Dean finally looked back up, and the look on his face was still filled with fear, but now there was a trickle of determination mixed in with it. "Yeah… I know we do." He said, nodding his head. Sam smiled gratefully at his brother, and tried to pull him into a hug. Dean jumped up off the bed and took about half a dozen steps away from his brother.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no chick-flick moments." He said, waving his finger in the air. "None, nada, understood?"

Sam laughed. So did Haley. After a minute, Dean joined in. It was good to laugh, before a serious or dangerous job. And Haley had a feeling this was going to be a lot of both.

**

* * *

A/N**: And so, we approach the old Winchester home. What're we going to find there? Demon, spirit? Or problems for Haley? More will be revealed in the next chapter. As always, R&R, I'd like to know how well you think I did with the beginning of Home. In my opinion, it was too much like the show, but that might just be my over-critical self shining through.Well, until next time, Cyas all. 


	17. Not Just Another Job

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Supernatural, except Haley. She's all mine and nobody can take credit for her, (insert maniacal laughter here).

Background: This chapter begins just before Sam and Dean arrive at their old home, in the episode "Home".

Review Answers:

_Ghostwriter_: As always, thanks for reviewing.

_Wildcat023_: Thanks, as I said in the A/N, I was worried it was too much like the show, but I see you liked it whether it was or wasn't, so that makes me feel better. this soon enough for you? I'm on a writing spree, with any luck, the next one will be ready within the next day or two. I've got the whole Home storyline planned out.

Chapter 16 – Not Just Another Job

* * *

The drive to Lawrence was filled with an awkward silence. Dean didn't even feel in the mood to put one of his tapes in. Haley sat in the back seat, not saying anything, though Sam glanced into the rearview mirror every so often, and saw her apparently staring off into space. 

Sam, meanwhile, was in a bit of a mood because Dean had forced him to wear the wretched glasses he'd gotten at the hospital. He had outright refused to wear them at first, and only agreed to in the end because Dean had threatened to hand cuff him so he wouldn't be able to take them off. So, he sat in the front seat of the impala with the tinted glasses covering his eyes, sulking like little boy.

Haley didn't speak until they reached the edge of Lawrence; at which point she let at a small cry of frustration that startled both Dean and Sam.

"Guys, would you mind, I don't know, making up, or something." She asked (or demanded). "I can't think with all this tension in the air."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at her, only just remembering that Haley could sense how they were feeling. "Right, sorry." He said. He glanced over at Dean. His older brother's knuckles were white from holding onto the steering wheel, his eyes seemed locked on the road, and worst of all, he seemed to only be paying fifty percent of his attention to the road.

Finally, they reached the house Sam and Dean had once called home. Dean looked out the window up at the house. Haley could see the anxiety in his eyes. He was afraid to go back, she could see that now.

"You going to be alright, Dean?" She asked.

"I… um." Dean ran a hand over his face. "I'm gonna have to get back to you on that." He said, looking back up at the house again.

"You can stay here if you want," Sam suggested, looking at his brother over the rim of his glasses. "Haley and I can handle this."

Dean bit his lower lip, not taking his eyes off the house. "No, I'll…" He took in a deep breath. "I'll come." He nodded, like he was telling himself more then Haley or Sam. Sam nodded in acceptance, slid the glass back up so they hid his eyes from the piercing sunlight, and climbed out of the car. On the other side, he heard more then saw Dean and Haley get out. He couldn't take his eyes off the house. He didn't actually remember living here. He had been, what? A year old, if that, when the demon had killed his mother? Something like that. He understood why Dean was so reluctant to come here. Well, he thought he understood. But he couldn't feel that way; he didn't know how to be afraid of something he couldn't remember.

Dean trudged up to the front door, with Sam and Haley right behind him. Dean looked over his shoulder, realized neither Sam nor Haley were going to come up in front of him and knock, and so reluctantly reached out and knocked lightly on the door.

A young woman with long blond hair answered the door. She looked at them curiously, "Yes?" She said. "Can I help you?" She asked.

Dean nodded, "I'm sorry to bother you ma'am. But, er, we're with the-"

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam interrupted, stepping forward. He decided that, this once, it was best to tell the truth. "This is my brother, Dean, and our cousin, Haley. Um, Dean and I used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place."

"Winchester?" The woman asked. There seemed to be recognition in her voice. "I'm… uh, I'm Jenny Harper." She held out her hand, which Dean shook. "You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."

"You did?" Dean asked. Jenny smiled warmly.

"Yeah, I did." She said, stepping out of the doorway. "Come on in." She said, gesturing for them to follow her as she turned and started to walk away. Dean seemed hesitant, so Sam reached forward and gave him a light nudge, pushing him over the threshold and into the house. Dean shot an indignant look over his shoulder at Sam, and then turned his head and followed Jenny. Sam stood back, and let Haley go in first, and then walked in himself, closing the door behind him.

He looked around the room he'd stepped into, wondering how much it had changed since he'd lived here.

Jenny led them (or Dean and Haley; Sam followed at a more leisurely pace, a mixture of excitement and foreboding as he took in the details of his old home). When he reached the kitchen, he saw Jenny just coming back over from a young boy, who had sat himself contentedly in the corner of a play pen, sucking on a bottle of juice.

Sam's eyes fell on a young girl of about four or five, who was sitting at the dining room table, drawing what looked like a pillar of fire, though in truth it could have been anything. Jenny stood behind her daughter, gesturing to her visitors.

"Sarry, this is Sam, Dean and Haley." She said. "Sam and Dean used to live here." That seemed to perk up Sarry's interest in them.

"Hi." She said, giving them a small wave of her hand. Haley smiled warmly, and Dean waved back.

"Hey, Sarry." Sam said. He nodded toward the piece of paper she was drawing on. "What's that you're drawing?" He asked.

A hint of fear flickered across Sarry's face, but it was gone before Sam could even be sure he'd seen it. "The thing in my closet." She said. Jenny knelt down beside her daughter.

"Oh, no, baby." She said. "There's nothing in the closets." She turned to look at Sam and Dean. "Right?" She said.

"Yeah, right." Dean said. Jenny turned back to Sarry.

"See, it was just a nightmare, sweetie. There's nothing to worry about." She said.

"I wasn't dreaming," Sarry said, and Sam was shocked at how genuinely sure she sounded. Behind him, Haley let out a small gasp, and her eyes went blank. No one noticed. "It came into my bedroom," Sarry continued, "and it was on fire." Sam's eyes widened at that.

"Honey, they probably don't want to hear about this," Jenny said, "why don't you go get ready for lunch while I show… I'm sorry, is she okay." Sam and Dean looked over at their shoulders and saw Haley, her back to them, staring out of the kitchen, and toward the stairs.

"Haley?" Dean said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Haley gave a startled gasp and her left hand came up, taking hold of Dean's hand, while her right elbow jabbed out behind her, slamming into his stomach. Sam watched in a mixture of astonishment and worry as Dean tried to double over, only to have Haley bend down and throw him over her shoulder onto the floor.

"Haley!" Sam snapped, the shock wearing off. He rushed up behind her and grabbed hold of her, pinning her arms to her side. "Haley, snap out of it, will ya!" She stopped struggling in his grip. He slowly let go of her, and she looked around.

"Oh my god, Dean, I'm sorry." She knelt down beside Dean. Sam couldn't help cracking a small smile.

"What do you know, Dean, for once, you're the one on the floor, and I'm the one who has to come rescue you." He said it so that only Dean could hear it. They were going to have a hard enough time explaining what had just happened to Jenny without have to explain what he meant by that.

Dean glared up at him from where he was lying, trying to recover his breath. "Ha ha, very funny," He groaned, "help me up." He said, reaching up. Sam obliged, pulling his brother to his feet.

"What… what was that?" Jenny asked. Sam looked over, and saw she was holding Sarry to her chest, and was standing over by her son in his playpen. He couldn't help feeling a pang of jealousy; he'd never know what it was like for his mother to hold him.

"Uh… she… we were in an accident not long ago, and Haley… well she's been a bit different since then." He'd taken a leaf out of Haley's book, and told the truth wrapped in a lie.

"Uh huh…" He could tell Jenny wasn't buying it. "I'm… I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She said, trying to sound strong. He had no doubt that if she thought they were a threat in any way, she would fight them to protect her children, despite the fact it was three (two of which were fairly strong, fully grown men) against one. He slowly nodded his head.

"Okay, that's no problem." He said. He turned to Haley, who had an ashamed look on her face. Dean was shooting glances at her, probably wondering if she was suddenly going to go crazy again. "Let's go." He said. Dean shot him a look at said 'what makes you think you're in charge?' but nonetheless headed for the door, never quite taking his eyes off Haley. They exited the house in silence.

They had barely gotten down the front steps before Sam started talking.

"Did you hear what Sarry said?" He demanded. "A figure on fire!"

"And that woman, Jenny, she was the one from your dream?" Haley asked.

_It was like she didn't remember what she had done in the house._ Sam thought as he nodded his head in confirmation. As if Dean was thinking the same thing, he brought up the subject.

"Before we go into that, would you mind explaining what happened in there, Haley?" He asked, keeping his voice level, even though Sam guessed he was feeling a lot less calm then he looked.

"I… I'm not sure." She said. She turned around as they reached the car, looking back at the house. "I felt this… I don't, I felt some kind of strong emotion, but I can't really remember exactly what it was. But I do remember feeling like someone was calling out to me, from up the stairs. And they weren't happy about the inhabitants of the house. They wanted someone, presumably Jenny and her kids, and probably us to, out of the house."

"Right, back to the thing in the house," Sam said, turning to face his brother, "do you think it's the thing that killed Mum and Jessica?"

"I don't know, maybe." Dean said, taking out his keys and unlocking the car doors.

"Well has it come back, or has it been there the whole time?" Sam pressed on. He could see that he'd finally broken down the wall of emotionlessness his brother had built up around himself the instant he finished talking.

"I don't know, okay!" Dean snapped, spinning around and looking at Sam with a mixture of irritation and… was that fear? "It could be something else entirely! We don't know yet!"

"Well those people are in danger, Dean." Sam said, keeping his voice calm and steady. He had to; if both of them started snapping at each other, well, he didn't really want to think about that, but the last time that had happened, Sam had left his father and brother behind for college, and he hadn't looked back. "We have to get them out of that house."

"Don't worry, Sam, we will." Haley said. Sam could tell she was trying to keep them both calm, like the sister they'd never had.

"No, I mean now." Sam said. Haley opened her mouth, but Dean had already started speaking.

"And how are you going to do that, huh?" He snapped, giving Sam a hard stare. "You got a story that she's going to believe?" Sam stared back at his brother for almost a minute, neither of them blinking. But as was always the way, he was the first to back down, averting his gaze and shaking his head.

"We have to do something." He said in a small voice.

Haley nodded. "And we will." She said. She turned to Dean. "Now, what would you do if this was any other job?" She asked.

Sam and Dean stood there, thinking for a moment. "We'd, uh…" Sam began. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, except this time we already know what happened." Dean said. Sam frowned.

"I guess… maybe, but, how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" He asked Dean. Dean frowned. Obviously he was not looking forward to this sudden trip down memory lane. He gave Sam a hesitant look. "About that night, you mean?" He asked. Sam nodded slowly. Dean took a deep breath, gazing downward at his shoes. "I… well, I-I remember the fire. The heat." He nodded slowly. A blank look crossed his face, like he was remembering something unpleasant. No doubt, he was. "And then I carried you out the front door."

Sam blinked, shocked. "You did?" He asked. Dean looked up at him.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" He asked, surprised.

A slight shake of the head. "No, I didn't." Sam said. He suddenly had yet another reason to be thankful for his brother.

Dean shrugged it off like it was no big thing. "Yeah, well… I did." He said. "And, uh… you know Dad's story as well as I do. He found mum on the ceiling and…" He took a shaky breath. "And whatever put her there… well, it was… gone, probably had been for a while." He finished. Sam stared at his brother, trying not the let the pity show on his face. He'd never seen his brother like this; never seen him so emotional. He'd always been the strong one, the one who helped little Sammy through all the emotional problems. Sam suddenly realized he didn't like having the roles reversed, he didn't like seeing Dean like this.

He glanced over at Haley, and saw her face had become an emotionless mask, not unlike Dean's did sometimes, and he wondered if she was feeling what Dean was feeling right then. It would make sense; from what they'd managed to work out, she only felt other people's emotions if they were felt at a great strength, and right now, Dean definitely seemed to be feeling pretty emotional. And Haley was acting exactly how Dean normally acted; she was hiding all those emotions behind an impenetrable veil. Something dean seemed unable to do right at that moment. So that left Sam to take charge of the situation, since neither of them seemed very capable right at that moment.

"How about I drive?" He suggested. Dean looked at his brother for a minute, before nodding and handing him the keys, walking around to the passenger's seat. Sam looked at Haley; she seemed to be coming out from behind the veil. Dean walking away must've broken whatever strange empathic connection she'd made with him for that moment. She looked worriedly over at Dean for a moment, and then opened the back door and climbed into the back seat. Sam nodded, satisfied, and climbed into the driver's seat, starting up the car.

"Okay." Sam said, once they were a few blocks away from the house. "If we're gonna figure out what's going on now, we have to figure out what happened back then."

"Yeah, okay." Dean said. He seemed to be regaining control over his emotional state. "We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbours, people who were there at the time." Sam nodded, and then gave a small sigh.

"Does this feel like just another job to you?" He asked. Dean seemed to struggle with the words for a moment before answering.

"Not by a long shot." He said with a shake of his head.

**

* * *

A/N**: Wow, I just realized this whole chapter was from Sam's point of view. I also realized that I've missed out on doing Dean's point of view a lot, so I think the next chapter will be totally from his. Of course, knowing me, that's subject to change while I'm writing it, but that's my goal. As always, as always, R&R, reviews are what make the world go round. Well, the world Haley, Sam and Dean are in, that is. 


	18. We’re Off to See the Psychic

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Supernatural, except Haley, and the psychics (excepting Missouri) that are mentioned in the phone book, since I couldn't' remember the names Sam used in the show.

Background: This chapter begins more or less at the mechanics where Sam and Dean are 'interrogating' the guy their dad used to work with or whatever. I was originally going to write that conversation into this chapter, but it got too difficult, so in the end I ditched it.

Chapter 17 – We're Off to See the Psychic

* * *

Dean sat in silence as Sam drove into a gas station. He had been thinking long and hard about what he was going to do. As Sam put the car into Park, he glanced over at his brother's face, and gaped when he suddenly realized something he'd overlooked back at the house. 

"You still can't see!" He exclaimed. "And you- you- you…" He was in too much shock to finished that sentence. "You said you'd drive, and- and what if- argh." He threw his hands up in disbelief and climbed out of the car.

"Dean, I can see perfectly fine." Sam said, climbing out of the came. "The glasses are just so the light doesn't damage my eyes again." He said, looking at Dean over the top of the impala. Beside Sam, Haley climbed out of the car.

"Yeah, well…" Dean trailed off for a minute. "If I'm not driving, neither are you." He said. Sam looked like he was about to argue, but Dean held up his hand. "No, no arguing. Neither of us are at one hundred percent. Haley's the only one who's…" He trailed of as Haley, as if to contradict him, began massaging her temples. He tried to relax his anxiety about what could have happened with Sam and his not-quite-healed eyes driving, to lessen the strain it must be putting on Haley. He and Sam had to keep themselves in check so that Haley wouldn't go crazy from their overwhelming emotions. "Well, for that matter, we're all pretty messed up, aren't we?" He cracked a smile. Sam shook his head, his mouth curving into a small smile. Haley seemed to relax as they did; if tension and anxiety stressed her out, positive emotions such as joy or even the relaxing state Sam and Dean were in now would calm her down, or at least pose less of a strain to her mind. They stood there, the three of them, looking at each other. Then the moment past and reality came back full force. Dean took in short breath.

"Sam, would you mind talking to this guy?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder at the mechanics shop built next to the gas station. "I need to take a leak." Sam nodded.

"Sure, you coming Haley?" He asked. Haley had taken on a somewhat confused look. She suddenly shook her head.

"No, uh, I'll refuel the car." She said quickly. Dean cocked his head to the side, looking Haley up and down. She'd suddenly become that mysterious young woman she'd been the day they'd met her. The one with all those secrets. After a moment, he nodded. She obviously had to do something, and for now he accepted her story. He looked at Sam, who was eying Haley strangely. Both of them knew Haley was hiding things from them, not telling the whole truth about who she was. And this was just another secret to add to that ever growing list.

"Okay, see you back her in ten." Sam said.

"What, you know how long it's going to take to get all the information out of that guy we need?" Dean asked incredulously.

"No, I know how long I'll be able to stand the stench that's emanating from that place before I need fresh air." Sam said, walking around the car and heading for the mechanic. With a sigh of resignation, Dean headed in the direction of the men's room. But he stopped when he reached the door, taking out his mobile. He looked over his shoulder, checking to make sure he was out of Haley's line of sight, and quickly dialed his Dad's mobile number, putting the phone to his ear.

"_This is John Winchester._" Dad's voice mail. "_If it's an emergency, call my son, Dean: 866 57 3235. He can help._"

Dean took a deep breath as the beep signalled him to leave a message, "Dad?" He said, trying to keep his voice steady. He suddenly felt like he was back at the house… everything seemed so much harder to do. "I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you get them." His voice shook slightly. "But… I'm with Sam in Lawrence, and there's something in our old house." He swallowed, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "I don't know if it's the thing that killed mom or not, but…" His voice cracked. "I don't know what to do… so whatever you're doing, if you could get here… please." He took in a few slow breaths, trying his best not to cry. That was the last thing he should do while asking his dad for help. "I need your help, Dad."

He lowered the phone, hanging up, and looking over his shoulder again to make sure Sam and Haley were still out of sight. He pushed the door to the men's room open, walked into the first empty cubicle, locked it, and finally gave in. If there was one thing his Dad had drilled into him, aside from the almost-inability to show others he had emotions, it was not to bottle them up to the point where he became useless. So he stood there, with his head leaning against the cold stone wall, and silently prayed that his Dad answered them this one time. He let the tears fall, splattering against his shirt and the floor. He cried until there were no tears left. Then he wiped his eyes, and went back outside like nothing happened.

* * *

Haley checked to make sure neither Sam nor Dean could see her as she sat down behind the impala, and quickly punched a number into her mobile. After a few moments, the voice of a woman in her mid-to-late fifties answered the phone. 

"_Missouri Mosely, palm reader and psychic._" Said the woman. Haley breathed a sigh of relief. "_Haley, dear, is that you?_" Haley couldn't help but chuckle. She'd met Missouri once or twice, and she never ceased to amaze her.

"Yeah, it's me." Haley said. "I'm here, in Lawrence. With Sam and Dean."

"_I know._" Missouri said. Haley wondered if Missouri had read that from her mind as well. "_No, dear, John told me._"

"John?" Haley asked, straightening her back as if she expected John to walk up to her right then and there. "_He's there?_"

"_He called me._" Came the answer, and Haley noted Missouri hadn't said yes or no whether he was there.

"Well… I think we might be coming your way." Haley said. "Sam and Dean are trying to track down information about what happened the night their mum was killed. And I just know that that'll lead to you eventually. I was kind of hoping…"

"_That I could act like I don't know you,_" Missouri said knowingly. "_Pretend we've never met._"

"They can't find out who I am." Haley said softly. "Not yet."

"_Well… I don't like to lie, especially not to people I care about, but…_" Missouri trailed off. "_I understand, dear. Don't worry, if they find out who you are, it's not going to be from me._"

"Thanks, Missouri." Haley said.

"_No problem._" The older woman said. "_I'll see you soon._"

"Yeah," Haley said, cutting the connection, and looking at the mobile. "Hopefully not too soon."

* * *

Dean came back from the men's room and saw Haley just coming out of the gas station. Probably having just paid for the fuel. At the same time, Dean saw Sam coming out of the mechanic, taking in long, deep breaths through his mouth. He smiled and shook his head. 

"Anything useful?" He asked.

"Yeah, he said… Dad started visiting… a psychic… a few days after… the fire." He said, still taking in deep breaths. "Doesn't have a name though."

"Great, well then, I guess we'll just have to…" Dean thought for a minute. "Find a phone book." He decided.

Haley pointed to a payphone cubicle not far away. "You'll probably find a phone book in that." She said. Dean glanced at her. While he did that, Sam walked over to the cubicle, and sure enough, returned with a phone book.

"So, what've we got?" Dean asked, leaning back against his car. Haley seemed to be a little anxious, but when she saw Dean glance at her, she visibly relaxed.

"Well, let's see, there are a few psychics that have set up shop in Lawrence." Sam said. "There's, er, there's a guy calling himself Prodigiosus."

"Prodigi-what-sus?" Dean asked, making a face.

"Prodigiosus." Haley said, and both brothers looked at her. "It's Latin for 'Amazing'." She explained. "What? I've learned a lot of Latin over the years."

"Uh huh." Sam said, turning his attention back to the phone book. "Okay, there's also a woman who claims she can see peoples' past lives, who goes by the name of Maggie Cupp. Uh, Missouri Mosely, Psychic and Palm Reader. Some dude called-"

"Whoa, wait." Dean said, standing up straight.

Sam looked up. "What is it?" He asked.

"Missouri Mosely? That's a psychic?" Dean asked. Sam looked down at the page, double checking it.

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, I guess so." He said. "Why?" Dean didn't answer. He just turned and opened the back door of the car, grabbing their dad's journal off the top of one of the bags and bringing it over to Sam, opening it.

"Read this, first page, first sentence." He said, handing the book to his brother. Sam read the first line outloud.

"'I went to Missouri… and I learned the truth'." He looked up from the journal. Dean shrugged.

"I always thought he meant the state." He said. Sam looked back down at the journal for a moment, then looked back up at Dean.

"Well, it looks like we're off to see the psychic." He said, a small grin playing on his lips. Dean let out a small laugh at that. They looked over at Haley, who had remained silent through this whole exchange.

"You know, if we're upsetting you by trying to be cheerful, just say so." Dean joked. Haley blinked, looking at him.

"What?" She said. "Oh, no, I'm fine." She said. "I'm driving aren't I?" She asked.

"Uh…" Dean exchanged a look with Sam, and sighed. "I guess so." He walked around the car. "Sam, this is your fault, you're in the back." He said.

"Wha- How is this my fault?" Sam demanded.

"You said I wasn't in the right state of mind to drive." Dean shot back as Sam reluctantly climbed into the back seat.

"I said nothing of the sort." Sam said. "I just said that I'd drive because you didn't-"

"Guys, arguments, hostility, headache, shut up!" Haley said from the driver's seat, rubbing her temples. Sam and Dean both snapped the mouth's shut before they even knew what they were doing. They exchanged a look.

"How is it that a girl we've known for less then a week can make us do things Dad never could through our whole life?" He asked quietly while Haley revved the car engine, and pulled out of the gas station. Haley grinned at that.

"Must be that whole… you know, I don't actually have an explanation to that." Sam said. He grinned, and Haley and Dean laughed.

* * *

Haley glanced up as she heard voices coming from another room. She, Dean and Sam were sitting in the room that served as a waiting room during the day, at Missouri's house. Sam looked up from the trashy magazine he was reading, and they saw a short, dark skins woman in her mid-fifties walking through the only door in the room other then the front door, right behind a much taller man. 

"Alright then." She says, giving the man a reassuring pat on the back. "Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about ya." She said.

"Alright." The man said, walking out the front door. Missouri watched him leave, waited until he was in his car, and then with a sigh, turned away and closed the door.

"Poor bastard. His wife is doing the gardener on the couch." She said, shaking her head in pity. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Why didn't you tell him?" He asked. Missouri shook her head as if the answer was completely obvious.

"Boy, people don't come here for the truth; they come here for good news." She said. Haley grinned. The older woman hadn't changed a bit since they'd last met. Missouri glanced at her fleetingly, and Haley realized Missouri must've caught that thought.

Missouri looked at them for a moment. "Well? Come on, I don't got all day. Sam, Dean, Haley, on your feet." Sam and Dean exchanged a surprised look when he back was turned and she started to walk into the next room, before getting to their feet and following her. Haley hesitated for a moment before following.

* * *

"_Now, what can I do for you, Haley?" The older woman asked as Haley followed her into the room. "You obviously didn't come here to ask if your boyfriend if your boyfriend was cheating on you." Haley opened her mouth, but Missouri continued without even looking at her. "Especially since you don't have one." Haley closed her mouth. Missouri turned around to face her. "John sent you, didn't he?" She said knowingly._

_Haley scoffed. "Nobody 'sent me'. I came here because I wanted to." She said. Missouri arched an eyebrow at Haley, who gave her a sullen look. "Okay, he said you'd be able to help me find them." She said._

"_Sam and Dean." Missouri said. "And why would you want to find them?" She asked._

"_I don't." Haley said. "I think my time would be better put to use helping John find that godforsaken son of a bitch that killed his wife." Her voice had taken on a very childish tone. "But John thinks little Haley can't take care of herself. He thinks she needs his two boys to take care of her." She had a few choice words she'd have said to John if it hadn't been a text message that had sent her here._

"_Don't you cuss in my house." Missouri snapped, causing Haley to take a startled step back. "I will not stand cussing under my roof."_

"_Would you like me to go outside and think it then?" Haley asked._

"_Don't mouth off to me, girl." Missouri said. "You came to me, remember." She added. Haley's left nostril twitched, something it did sometimes if she was particular annoyed or angry._

"_Yeah, and I'm beginning to wish I'd stayed in Amherst." She said. "At least there I could swear to my heart's content while I torched poltergeists." She grinned as if reliving a fond memory. Missouri shook her head._

"_Youths these days." She muttered to herself._

"_Hey, I'm nineteen." Haley said. "I ain't no kid anymore." She added._

_Missouri sighed sadly, turning away from Haley and looking out the window at the young woman's car parked outside. "Haley, you haven't been a kid in nearly seven years." Missouri said sadly. Haley's eyes widened, and for the first time she couldn't think of a witty retort to what the older woman said._

* * *

Haley smiled sadly as she remembered that day. It had been the second time she'd met Missouri. She'd only seen her once more since then, but even so she was fond of the older woman. She was like the mother she'd never had. 

She immediately felt embarrassed for thinking that when she saw Missouri smile warmly at her.

The dark skinned woman was looking Sam and Dean up and down, smiling fondly at them. She gave a small laugh. "Wow, you two sure grew up handsome." She laughed again. "And you were one goofy looking kid, too." She said, pointing at Dean. He shifted uncomfortably, a nervous smile on his face. There was an _amused_ smile on Sam's face as he looked from his brother to Missouri. Missouri turned her attention to Sam, taking his hand.

"And Sam, you…" She stopped, her facing taking on a look of understanding. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry about your girlfriend." Sam stiffen, his amused smile replaced by wide eyes and a shocked look. "And your father?" Missouri looked from Sam to Dean. "He's missing?" She looked back at Sam.

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked rather flatly.

"Well… you were just thinking it just now." Missouri explained, looking at the two brothers. Sam raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, where is he?" Dean asked. "Is he okay?" Haley turned out to the conversation at that point, her eyes falling on the coffee table. Or more specifically, the mobile phone that lay on it. It couldn't be…

"Boy, I may be able to… read thoughts, sense energies, and so on," Haley tuned back into the conversation as Missouri's voice took on a somewhat offended tone, "but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. I'm a psychic, not a miracle worker!" Sam's amused smile returned and he gave his brother a 'you were asking for it' look. "Now sit, please." Missouri said, gesturing toward one of the two couches on opposite sides of the coffee table. She took a seat on one. Sam and Dean took a seat on the other. Haley continued to stare at the mobile. Missouri followed Haley's gaze, and fell on the mobile.

"Oh, there it is." She quickly snatched it up. "I was wondering where I'd left my mobile." She said. Haley's suspicion that John was a lot closer then Sam and Dean thought came back ten fold. _He's here._ She thought, focusing completely on that thought until she caught sight of the slightly guilty look on Missouri's face that confirmed her suspicions. Missouri nodded toward the couch, and Haley forced a smile, sitting down next to Dean. The only reason she wasn't telling them right then and there that John was somewhere in the house was because she had her own secrets to protect. She doubted Missouri would tell them even if she did tell Sam and Dean, but John might, and she was not willing to take that chance. Not yet.

Missouri's gaze suddenly shot in Dean's direction. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table and I'll whack you with a spoon!" She snapped. Dean gave a startled jump, shooting a somewhat scared look at Missouri.

"I didn't do anything." He said defensively.

"Yeah, but you were thinking it." Missouri said knowingly. Dean had made no move that gave any sign he had intended to put his feet on her coffee table, but Haley could tell by the way Missouri narrowed her eyes at him that he had definitely been thinking something along those lines.

Sam looked from his brother to Missouri. The look on his face was a mixture of amusement and amazement. He seemed really intrigued by Missouri's powers. Dean looked unnerved by them. Missouri shifted in her seat, and looked at the brothers questioningly, urging them to talk.

"Okay, so, our dad…" Sam said. "When did you first meet him?" He asked. Missouri closed her eyes for a minute, probably recalling the day John had come there. Haley knew she must've told him some pretty convincing things, because he spoke very highly of her whenever he mentioned her.

"He came for a reading," Missouri explained, "A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark; I guess you could say… I pulled back the curtain."

"And what about the fire?" Dean asked, nervousness replaced by intrigue. Haley leaned back against the couch. She'd heard all this before. She pretended to be listening while she tried to reach out empathically, trying to search the house for John. But as always, she couldn't find anything because she was trying. It only ever worked when she wasn't expecting it, and that was often the worst times for it to happen.

"What was it?" Haley blinked, turning to Sam as his voice broke into her thoughts.

"I don't know," Missouri admitted. "Oh, but it was evil." She said, shaking her head. "It felt like being buried alive in a tomb." She said. She leaned forward. "So, you think something's back in that house?" She asked. Sam nodded.

"Definitely." He said. Missouri let out a small breath, shaking her head.

"I… I don't understand," she said, getting to her feet and walking around the coffee table so that she was standing in front of them.

"What?" Haley asked. Dean and Sam both gave a startled jump when she spoke up, and she gaped at them. They had forgotten she was there. Well, she had been awfully quiet. But still…

Missouri glanced at Haley for a minute, and then turned her attention back to Sam and Dean. "I haven't been back in the house since that day, but… I've been keeping an eyes on the place, and it's been quiet." She said. "No… sudden deaths, no freak accidents." She frowned. "Why is it acting up now?"

"I don't know," Sam said, "but Dad going missing, and… and Jessica dying, and now… this house, all happening at once, it-it just feels like something's doing it."

Dean frowned, shaking his head. "Now there's a comforting thought." He said sarcastically. He turned back to Missouri. "What should we do?" He asked.

Missouri seemed to think for a moment. "I need to get into that house." She said. "I need to see if I can sense it." Dean bit his lower lip.

"Yeah, well, that may be easier said then done." He said. "I don't know how welcome we're going to be."

* * *

**A/N: Nothing much to say this time. I guess I'll have to keep working on it for an entirely Dean chapter. Oh well. It's probably, oh, I don't know, ten or so hours after the last chapter. Or something like that. Let me know what you think, reviews (good or constructive-criticism) always help to improve the speed and quality at which I write. Sort of. I think. Yeah, so anyway, reviews are good, I'm sure there are more people reading then there are reviewing, so please, to all those of you who aren't reviewing, well, you get the idea.**


	19. The Importance of Being an Empath

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: (Whistles innocently) What? I can dream can't I? I can't? Fine, then I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, and any and all mistakes you find in this chapter.

Author's Note: Yeehah! I'm on a roll! This is, what? The third chapter in less then twenty-four hours? Man, I'm going to be feeling the backlash of this tomorrow. But until then… well, nothing, cause I'm going to bed. No more chapters for at least a day. Maybe.

BTW, I could still use a beta, chance for fame, fortune and being the first to read the chapters. Okay, I lie, no fame or fortune, but you'd still be the first to read the chapters.

Background: This chapter begins when Missouri, Sam and Dean go back to the house so that Missouri can do a reading on it.

Review Answers:

_greenka87_: I'm glad you're enjoying this, it really helps motivate me to keep writing. As to Haley's secrets, well… there're a few of them, and I'll keep bringing them in as I see fit. I figure there'll be at least twenty-five or thirty chapters, since I've still got quite a few story ideas to put into this. Home is one of my favourites too, so I'm doing my best to make it spectacular. Hope I'm still doing well.

Chapter 18 – The Importance of Being an Empath

* * *

Sam exchanged a look with his brother, before turning his attention back to the front door of their old home. Both of them knew Jenny was not going to be all that happy about letting them into her home again, not after what she'd seen earlier that morning. But Missouri had promised she could get them into the house. With a sigh of resignation, he reached forward and gave the door a light tap. Missouri huffed behind him. 

"The only way she's going to hear that is if her ear's right up against the door." She pushed forward and gave the door a louder knock.

Jenny answered a moment later with her son Richie in her arms. She took in the four people standing, and her expression changed from stressed to irritation. "What do you want now?" She asked, looking at the two brothers, their 'cousin', and the old woman that were standing on her front step.

"Hey, Jenny." Sam said. "This is our friend Missouri. She was… uh, hoping to see the house."

"Yeah, well… this house isn't open for touring, y'know." Jenny making to close the door.

"No, wait, Jenny this is import-" Dean began, taking a step forward to block the door. He was cut off when Missouri's hand slammed (quite heavily) into the back of his head. He let out a small cry of pain, and shot a questioning (and surprised) stare at the old woman.

"Give the poor girl a break." Missouri said in a lecturing tone. "Can't you see she's upset?" She shook her head in disappointment at Dean. Sam suppressed a smile; there weren't many people that could whack Dean in the head and get away with it, but Dean seemed genuinely intimidated by the short old woman, something Sam would probably never understand. Missouri had turned her attention back to Jenny. "You'll have to forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed." She said it in a pitying tone, and Dean gave her an offended look, though she obviously didn't see it. "But please, hear me out." She finished.

Jenny shifted Richie in her arms, eying Missouri in an almost-trusting stare. "About what?" She asked.

"About this house." Missouri said in a meaningful tone.

"What… what are you talking about?" Jenny asked, but Sam could see she had a good idea what Missouri was talking about. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she either didn't see it or was trying to ignore it. Behind them, Haley had a distracted look in her eyes, and she was looking slowly around the yard, like she was looking for something.

Missouri narrowed her eyes, tilting her head slightly. "I think you know what I'm talking about," she said, "You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

Jenny gave a nervous smile. "Who are you?" She asked, eying Missouri, and slowly moving her gaze over Sam, then Dean, and finally, Haley. Her gaze stayed on Haley the longest, who was now standing stock still, even her breathing barely registered.

"We're people that can help," Missouri said, "who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us just a little." Sam tilted his head forward, causing his glasses to slide down his nose, so that he could look her in the eyes. He offered another reassuring smile, and this time she returned it. Slowly.

"O-okay." Jenny said, taking a step back, admitting them into her home. Missouri went first, followed by Dean, then Sam, with Haley, her eyes still filled with distraction, bringing up the rear. Missouri led them up the stairs, heading straight for a room at the far end of the hall, on the left.

Sam looked around. He felt cold… like someone had suddenly sucked all the warmth out of the room. He shivered. Missouri was looking around the room, hands held slightly out in front of her.

"If there's a dark energy in this house, this room should be the centre of it." She said mysterious. Sam gave Missouri a questioning look.

"Why?" He asked. Missouri turned to look at him, a knowing look on her face.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam; this is where it all happen." She said. "Haley?" She looked past Sam and Dean, who turned around to see Haley staring at the closet.

"Haley, what is it?" Sam asked. The younger woman ignored him, staring at the closet doors. Suddenly her hands flew forward and she threw the doors open, revealing – nothing. The closet was empty. Haley turned, a confused look on her face. Then suddenly her head snapped up, staring straight at Missouri, and yet at the same time she seemed to be looking at nothing at all.

"Get out!" She said in a commanding tone. "You don't belong here! Get out this house before I force you to leave!"

"Haley, what are you talking about?" Dean demanded, stepping in front of her.

"Dean?" Haley said, looking confused, almost like she didn't recognized. "You're so…" Her eyes went blank. She blinked, and focus returned.

"Haley, what just happened?" Sam asked.

"I… I don't know." Haley said. She looked around the room, her eyes falling on Missouri momentarily, and then continuing. "I was just standing here, and… I don't know, it felt like something came over me. I knew everything I was doing, I understood it… or I thought I did… but I wasn't really in control." Sam frowned, looking at her for a long moment before speaking.

"I know that feeling," he admitted, "I felt like that when I was being controlled by Heartsbane." He remembered that feeling of near-control, thinking he was in charge of everything that was happening, not understanding that someone else was telling him what to do. "Obviously it's not the exact same thing," he turned to Missouri, "is it? Can you tell if the demon is telepathic?" He asked.

Missouri frowned. "This isn't a demon." She said after a few seconds. "It's a spirit of some sort… maybe a poltergeist…" She shook her head.

"So it's not the thing that killed mum? Sam asked. Missouri shook her head. "Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yeah… this thing… it's energy, the evil that's polluting it… it's not as strong." She moved slowly around the room, hand hovering over different surfaces. "But it's definitely strong… and by no means any less bad, even if it's not as evil." She turned to Haley. "That might explain why you could feel it. Why you… channelled it."

Haley's eyes widened, and realization dawned on Sam.

"You channelled it empathically?" He guessed. Haley shrugged.

"Is it possible? I mean, I can't even reliably say I can channel emotions from the living. Channelling emotions from a spirit is kind of… out there, isn't it?" She asked.

"Haley, the fact that you can do it at all is 'kind of… out there'." Dean said. He turned to Missouri. "You said this wasn't the thing that killed mum?"

Missouri nodded, and stepped toward the closet. "And… there's something else…" She ran her hand along the walls inside the closet, less then an inch from touching them. "There's more the one spirit in this place." She said, shaking her head and stepping out of the closet. Sam shivered again, and walked over and pulled the window shut. Missouri glanced at him, but didn't say anything.

"Why are they here?" Dean asked. Missouri turned to look at him.

"They're here because of what happened to your family, Dean." She said, almost as if she were trying to comfort a small child. She walked right up to him, and Sam saw the slightly intimidated look Dean got on his face as she came within a few inches of touching him. "You see, all those years ago, real evil walked this place. It walked this house; and that kind of evil leaves wounds." She breathed a small sigh. "And sometimes…" She turned to look around the room. "…wounds get infected."

"I don't understand." Sam said from his place by the window. Missouri turned to him.

"This place is like a magnet for paranormal energy." She said. "The poltergeist in this house… in this room… it came to this place like a scavenger to a carcass." She said. "And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"Wait…" Haley said. "You said there was more then one spirit." She said. Missouri nodded, not looking at Haley. Sam did though. The younger woman seemed shaken. He knew how she felt; it was a strange feeling to be controlled by something without actually being possessed. It took him a little while to get over it.

"There is." Missouri said. "I… I just can't get a read on the second one; it's very elusive, trying to stay hidden, and not just from us." She looked around. "I get the feeling that these two spirits are not friends. And that could make it all the worse for us; if we've got two spirits fighting for territory…" She didn't finished, but Sam got the idea that it wouldn't be pleasant. He looked over at Dean. His brother had a look of determination on his face, much like the one he got every time they were hunting and they were about to face whatever it was they were after.

"Well, one thing's for sure." He said. "Nobody's dying in this house; ever again." He said. He turned to Missouri. "So whatever is here, how do we stop it?" He asked.

* * *

They were back downstairs, standing around the dining room table (except Dean, who was sitting at the table, putting together satchels of herbs and such that Missouri had laid out on the table. But Haley wasn't paying much attention to what he was doing. Or what they were saying for that matter. She was glancing around the room. She was trying to convince herself that she was just nervous, afraid that the poltergeist would figure out what they were doing and try to stop them. 

They'd sent Jenny and her kids out for dinner (after some persuasion from Missouri) so that they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire if something should go wrong. But that didn't stop Haley from worrying. She was worried about what she might feel if she came near the poltergeist again.

"Haley, you okay?" Sam asked. She looked up, and saw a look of concern on his face. She smiled at him and nodded.

"I'm fine, I just-" She gasped suddenly, doubling over, arms clutching her stomach, eyes wide with shock and pain. Sam and Dean were on their feet and by her side in an instant, with Missouri less then a second behind them.

"Haley, honey, what is-" Missouri began, but then she stopped, looking around. "Sam, Dean, get the satchels. We don't have much time." She grabbed one herself. "I'll take the basement. Dean, you take this floor, Sam, you take the second floor." She glanced worriedly at Haley. "Will you be okay, dear?" She asked.

Haley nodded her head weakly. She felt winded, and at the same time, she felt as though a large amount of energy had suddenly pulsed through her. "I'll be fine, just… hurry." She managed. She laid down on the ground, gasping for air, and heard more then saw the three pairs of feet run in three different directions. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing. Breathe in… breathe out. In… out.

A minute passed. Two, three.

"_Haley!_" She didn't stop to wonder who had cried out. All she had time to think about was what it meant. Her eyes snapped open, and a second later, she heard a crash come from upstairs. Ignoring the weakness in her arms and legs, she leapt to her feet, making it halfway to the stairs before she was even standing completely. Behind her, she heard the sound of wood being cut apart, but all her focus on what was happening upstairs.

She turned, looking wildly into the room as she reached the top of the stairs, and caught sight of a broken lamp lying on the ground, and dashed into the room.

Sam was lying on the ground, his glasses hanging askew with one arm broken, and the lamp's power lead wrapped tightly around his throat.

Haley rushed to his side, nimble fingers clawing at the cord. Sam's eyes were bulging as he tried desperately to take in air through his encircled windpipe which was rapidly becoming smaller.

Growling in frustration, she looked frantically around the room for the satchel. Her eyes locked onto it, and she snatched it up, hearing footsteps rapidly ascending the stairs. She didn't bother with the hammer that lay abandoned by the wall. With a well aimed kick fuelled by adrenaline, her foot plunged into the wall. She pulled it back out, and slipped the satchel into it.

Almost immediately, she felt a strain lift from her mind she hadn't even realized was there. Blinding light filled the room, probably the whole house, and an ear-splitting growl of echoed through it. Through that growl, she heard a small, choked-up whimper of pain from Sam; his exposed eyes were obviously not agreeing with the bright light. She fought through the bizarre earth-quake like feeling that filled the house, reaching Sam's side at the same time as Dean. Between the two of them, they managed to protect Sam from the light, until the light faded. As it did, Haley gasped, seeing Sam's pale skin and blue lips. She didn't notice as Dean's hands moved swiftly around his brother's throat, trying to untangle the cord from it. He hadn't noticed yet that Sam had stopped fighting for air.

And then he did, and his hands froze. "S-Sammy?" He whispered. Sam's eyes stared lifelessly up at him.

"No, don't stop." Haley shouted at him, her fingers clawing at the cord to loosen it. This proved a much more effective way then Dean's, as the lamp was dragged across the floor as the cord was pulled, and the two hunters managed to find the end, quickly untangling it from Sam's throat.

They didn't wait to check if Sam had a pulse or not. He wasn't breathing, so the Haley began administering CPR, with Dean breathing into his brother's mouth every few beats.

"Come on." He said between breaths. "Come on, Sammy, don't do this." He poured breath into his brother. "Don't leave me here on my own." He begged his brother. Haley fought to keep tears from overflowing. She had to stay focused. She had to bring him back.

Slowly, reluctantly, she stoped though. It was doing no good. They could both see that. Sam refused to take even one breath. She bit back a sob, reaching down and taking his hand in hers.

"No… don't…" Dean began doing the CPR on his own. Haley didn't know why she'd stopped. She didn't know why she was holding Sam's hands while Dean worked furiously to bring his brother back. But slowly, ever so slowly, she began to reach out to him. She slipped into a state of semi-consciousness, only just aware of what was happening around her, of Dean's cries of anguish as he struggled to keep a steady rhythm going, of Missouri's footsteps as she joined the, the gasp of shock as her eyes fell on Sam's lifeless form.

All there was was Sam. Her hands moved up his arm without her realizing. Dean stopped what he was doing, but she didn't notice as she laid one hand on Sam's forehead, and the other on his chest.

"Sam…" She said softly. Her eyes filled with tears, she could feel his pain and fear as if it was her own, what he'd felt in those last few moments as he fought to fight off the poltergeist's attack. "Come back, Sam." She took in a sharp breath, feeling something pass through her, something different to what had almost killed her earlier. It was like an energy that ran down her arms and through her hands, into Sam's body. And then she collapsed forward, completely drained of energy.

* * *

**A/N: I hope this last bit wasn't too 'out there'. I just remember reading somewhere (couldn't for the life of me say where) that empathy can be used to heal, and this seemed like a good way to bring that small part into it. I mean, she's not going to start healing broken limbs and makes wounds vanish… that'd be way 'out there'. And she can't bring back the dead if they're dead –dead. What she did at the end of this chapter is kind of like a supernatural CPR. Anyway, tell me in your reviews what you think of it. Now, I'm going to my well-deserved bed and sleeping for what's left of the night.**


	20. Risen

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: No, don't own, so sayeth me. Now leave me to my misery and mistakes.

Author's Note: Oh, I think my brain has finally realized what happens when I write three chapters in less then twenty-four hours, so sorry if this chapter is crappy (though it better not be, because my favourite part of Home is in this chapter).

Background: This chapter begins a few minutes before the last one ended, this time from Sam's point of view instead of Haley's.

Review Answers:

_Stranded_: I'm pleased you like what I've done. I personally think I've done a much better job with Home then I did with skin (and with Skin I had a script for reference with the dialogue… if that's a sentence). I'm more of a Sam fan, but hey, that's just me… but I'm glad you like how I'm doing it, I like making my character's emotional, and I thought this episode was the ideal one to do that to Dean (innocent smile). Nice to know my story's become an addiction, I think my ego just inflated a little more. I don't think it'll fit out the door. Looks like I'm stuck at the computer. No, I need a life… (deflates ego). Now, onto the actual questions. Yes, I intend to bring some (though not all) of Haley's secrets out sometime soon, probably in the next chapter or the one after that. Yes, there's going to be a relationship between Haley and one of the brothers. I actually came up with an ending for both scenarios. I was thinking of writing a rough copy of both and then choosing which was better. No, she's not going to be related to them. Now… will Dean get powers… hmmm, I think the answer is a definite possibility of a probable maybe. But if he did, I don't think it'd be spectacular like Haley's and Sam's, because they're the 'psychics' and Dean's the soldier. Oooh, I like the way I put that, I'll have to work that into the story. Oh wow, I think this is officially the longest review answer I've ever written. It's scaring me.

_Ghostwriter_: Thanks… one day I'll find out where this flip side is, lol (needed something to say).

Chapter 19 – Risen

* * *

He felt like he was floating, or separate, not as completely there as he had been a minute ago. When he was began attacked by the lamp's power lead. Wow, talk about irony. He survived an attack by crazed cultists to be strangled by a lamp. His eyes opened, and he wished he'd kept them closed. There was nothing. He was nothing. He was everywhere and he was nowhere, held loosely to himself by a hair-thin thread. Where was the bright light? The pearly gates? Hell, he'd take eternal flames and ashes, anything was better then nothing. And this truly was nothing. 

Coherent thought seemed to be getting harder, and that hair-thin thread seemed to the fraying at the ends. He wanted to go back, he wasn't ready for this. _Take me back, please, I don't want to die. _Because, when it came down to it, he was afraid. He'd faced death almost every day of his life since he was a baby, and he was afraid of it, but not for the reasons most are. He was afraid to leave Dean, because what would Dean do without his Sammy? And what about Dad? Dean had said it himself, though Sam hadn't taken him seriously: He couldn't find Dad on his own. _Somebody! Haley, Dean, Missouri, anybody!_

And then the thread became a rope, chains to hold him where he was. They snaked around his body, pulling him back. He heard anguished cries, whispers, gasps of shock, and above it all, he heard someone calling him back.

He took in what seemed like his first breath of air as his eyes opened slightly, and almost choked on it. He coughed, wheezed, and then almost suffocated again when he felt something lift him off the floor and squeeze him so hard he thought his ribs were going to burst.

"Dean, put the poor boy down or you're going to suffocate him again." Missouri's voice broke through his thoughts. Dean… was hugging him? That didn't happen often.

And then he remembered those last few minutes of consciousness. "Wh-what happened?" He wheezed. His throat was sore, and he coughed the first couple of times he tried to speak, but eventually he got it out.

He saw the worried look on Missouri's face. "You… died." She said softly. She glanced past Sam, and he looked around (still held loosely by Dean) and saw Haley lying on the floor.

"Don't you… ever, _ever_, do that to me again!" Dean ordered, sniffling slight.

"I'll try." Sam said, but he was looking at Haley.

"Did the poltergeist get her as well? Is she okay?" He asked.

"The poltergeist didn't get _her_." Missouri said, shaking her head. "She saved you, Sam. Somehow, empathically, she reached out to you through whatever hold you had left on this world, and she pulled you back."

Sam suddenly remembered the feeling of the thread growing into larger and into more, and remembered hearing someone calling him back. So Haley had done that. Now for the big question.

"How?" His voice was a barely audible whisper.

"I don't know." Missouri said. "I've read that an Empath can heal, but never… never anything to this degree, especially so soon after development." She looked over at the young woman lying on the floor, who gave pained groan.

"Can we not say… development…?" Haley managed. "Okay? I'm not… a piece of film." Sam gave a small laugh that turned into a loud cough. Dean patted him lightly on the back until the coughing was done. Haley rolled onto her side, apparently exhausted. Her eyes brightened, though, when she saw Sam. But she didn't say anything. She must've been too worn out.

"Okay, come on, you, on your feet." Dean said, helping Sam up, letting him lean on his shoulder. He walked Sam over to Haley, and helped her to her feet as well. Missouri stepped forward, and let Haley lean on her shoulder, but by then Dean had guided Sam to the door of the room. Sam suddenly felt really cold again as they came out and he looked into the room that had once been his nursery. He shivered, feeling that he couldn't wait to be out of this house.

He glanced over his shoulder as they reached the stairs, and shivered again.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked. "You shivered, are you cold?" Sam almost dying… no, Missouri said he had died… Sam dying must've been more traumatizing for his brother then he'd thought. He was acting like a worried mother. W_ell, guess what, bro? It was traumatizing for me too. _He thought.

"I'm fine." He whispered softly. Any louder and he would've probably started coughing again. "I think I just need to rest." He felt like he was being watched. Like there were eyes all around him. _Okay, paranoid much? _He berated himself. He was just a little jumpy. And he had every right to be; he had, for all intents and purposes, just died.

They reached the kitchen just in time to see Jenny come in the front door. She walked in with her kids, and her eyes fell on the mess that had been caused in the kitchen. Probably from when the poltergeist had tried to stop Dean.

"What happened?" She asked, looking around. She didn't seem upset; just confused. And then she looked concerned when she saw Sam and Haley both relying on someone else to stand upright.

"Hi, uh, yeah, sorry." Haley said, and Sam looked over, seeing her almost standing upright next to Missouri, but still using the older woman for support.

"Yeah, don't you worry," Missouri said. "Dean's going to clean up this mess." Sam couldn't suppress his smile in time to avoid a glare from Dean. Missouri turned around. "Well, don't just stand there. Get a mop and start cleaning." Dean opened his mouth and shut it again, and then sat Sam down on one of the chairs, grumbling under his breath. He'd obviously said a few not-so-nice things in his head as well, because a second later, Missouri said, "And don't cuss at me." Dean shot her a startled glance, and then turned and walked away in search of a mop.

_

* * *

She was beating against the window, which despite being made of only thin glass, refused to shatter. And he could see that she was screaming as loud as she could, and yet no sound escaped the house._

Sam's eyes snapped open, and he realized they were still in the car. He looked wildly around, trying to make sense of where they were.

"Whoa, Sam, Sam, calm down!" Dean said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "What is it?" He asked. Sam looked at his brother, taking in a few deep breaths before speaking.

"We have to go back." He said. Dean's eyes widened.

"Go back? What?" He looked confused. "What do you mean, go back? We already beat those things, what else is there to do?"

"I don't think we did." Sam said, looking over into the back seat where Haley was lying asleep. He reached over and tapped her lightly on the shoulder, pulling his hand back quickly as she did her expected strangulation attempt as she was jerked awake. "Hey, Haley, buckle up, we're driving."

"What? Where?" Haley asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"Nowhere, Sam what's the matter with you, what do you mean you don't think we did?" Dean asked.

"I mean, I don't think we beat those spirits." He said. "I had that nightmare again, Dean. Jenny was at her window screaming for help. This isn't over yet. We have to go back and help her." Dean looked skeptical. "Okay, let's try this a different way." Sam said, taking a deep breath. "You can drive us there, or I can knock you out, dump you in the back seat, and I can drive us there, exhausted, and now without my anti-straining glasses." He grinned when he saw the look of horror on his brother's face.

"That's hitting below the belt, you know." Dean said, starting up the car and putting it into gear. He looked over his shoulder as he reversed out of the car park they'd chosen to sleep in, and began the short drive back to their old home.

They'd just pulled up in front of the house, when Haley gave a sharp intake of breath.

"It's there!" She gasped. Sam looked toward the house, looking from window to window in search of Jenny.

She was beating against the window, which despite being made of only thin glass, refused to shatter. And he could see that she was screaming as loud as she could, and yet no sound escaped the house.

"There!" He shouted. He opened the car door before Dean had even come to a complete stop, with Haley just seconds behind him. Dean stopped the car right then and then, climbing out with them.

"You two grab the kids, I'll get Jenny!" He shouted at them.

"Right." Sam said. They burst into the house, ran up the stairs, and split up. Sam saw Haley heading for Sarry's room, so he went after Richie. He found the toddler asleep, and gently but swiftly lifted him into his arms. The young boy woke up, looking at Sam. "Shhh, it's just me." He said "Do you remember me?" He asked. Richie stared at for a few minutes, before nodding. "Okay, we have to get you and your mother and sister out of here, do you understand?" He asked. The boy nodded again. "Okay, let's-" He stopped when he heard something slam against the wall next to him, and realized it had happened on the other side. Holding Richie with one arm, he sprinted out of the room and into the next.

Haley was recovering from being thrown across the room, away from Sarry, but that was not what caught Sam's attention. A figure made completely of fire was rising from the floor. His breath caught in his throat.

"Help!" Sarry's voice snapped him out of his fear-induced trance. Taking a deep breath, he turned his face away from the flames the ran to her bed.

"Haley, get out of here!" He shouted, not looking over at his friend. He reached down and Sarry climbed up into his embraced, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her to his chest, and turned, glancing fleetingly at the figure of fire. "Don't look." He wasn't sure if he was telling himself or Sarry, but either way, neither of them looked, and he walked as fast his he could out of the room. The figure didn't follow, or didn't look like it was following. It just stood there in front of the bed.

He turned the corner and started down the stairs. He had just reached the bottom when he realized he'd never seen Haley leave. Or get up again, for that matter. With barely a second's hesitation, he set Sarry and Richie down on the floor.

"Sarry, take your brother outside as fast as you can." He said. "Whatever you do, don't look back." He said. Sarry looked at him, obviously terrified, but whatever else he was going to say was cut off as something took hold of him by the legs and pulled. Sarry screamed, turning and running, her brother's hand in hers. Sam was dragged down the hole, clawing desperately at the floor and anything he passed, trying to slow his movement. He failed, and crashed into the tables and chairs Dean had put back into place earlier that night.

But whatever it was that was doing this wasn't about to give him a chance to recover. It lifted him off the ground and tossed him across the kitchen like a doll, throwing him at one of the high cupboards and letting him crashed to the floor, and then lifting him again and dropping him on the table.

The table broke beneath him, and laid in between it's two halves for a minute before climbing shakily to his feet, wondering if maybe it had lost interest in him.

As if it had done stopped just to make him think that, and lifted him up again, this time carrying him across the kitchen and pinning him against the pantry doors.

He let out a cry of pain as the knobs on the door dug into his back. The cry turned into a panicked gasp when he saw the cutlery draw sliding open. He tried to push against whatever force was holding him against the doors, but it was like trying to push against a brick wall. He groaned with effort, but eventually he knew it was no good.  
And that was when the knives lifted out of the drawer. His breathing became slightly panicked when he saw six knives, one by one, floating out of the drawer and coming towards him, swishing menacingly in the air.

"_Enough!_" Sam's eyes widened. He felt like he should recognize that voice. It was like something from a dream. And just like that, the knives dropped harmlessly to the floor. And then Haley was by his side, staring at the knives.

"Haley, I thought I told you to get out of here." Sam said.

"Dean's hacking through the front door, you think I'd want to-" She stopped, and Sam heard a strange growling noise coming from around the corner, and a flickering orange-gold light.

"Haley, get out of here, now!" He ordered. But, then again, Haley had never been one good at following orders. Sam glanced over at her, taking his eyes off the burning figure for just a second, and saw why the Haley hadn't moved. Her eyes were locked on the figure. But there was no fear in them.

"Sam!" He glanced to his left and saw Dean coming towards them. His brother came into the room, and caught sight of the figure standing before them. Without missing a beat, the older Winchester raised his gun, which Sam guessed was loaded with rock salt.

"No, don't." Sam said, feeling something close to recognition himself. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before.

"What, why?" Dean demanded. The flames around the figure started to dissipate. So familiar, so much like Jessica…

"Because, I recognize her." Sam said slowly. "I know who it is." He the flames seemed to fall away as she opened her eyes, and there stood his mother, Mary Winchester.

Dean's eyes widened. Beside Sam, Haley's eyes were still staring.

"Mum?" Dean whispered, his voice cracking. He lowered his hand unsteadily to his side, staring at the woman that stood before him. She smiled softly at him, taking a step forward.

"Dean." She said, nodding. She looked him up and down slowly. "You're so… oh, you've grown up so much." Sam stared, stock still, at his mother, still pinned against the pantry door. He watched as she reached up, as if to touch her older son's face. But her hand waved less then an inch from it, as Dean closed his eyes. Both of them knew he wouldn't feel her.

And then she moved past him, toward her younger son. He tried to smile at her, tried to say something. But he was too overwhelmed with joy and sadness at seeing her. Tears were slowly welling up in his eyes, tears he knew would not stay contained for very long.

"Sam… my little Sammy." She said slowly. Her smile faded, becoming a look of sorrow. "I'm so sorry." She whispered. Sam blinked back the tears, wetting his lips.

"For what?" He managed. She didn't answer. She glanced fleetingly at Haley.

"Take care of my boys." She whispered. Haley gave the slightest of nods, showing almost no sign at all that she'd heard her.

Sam watched as his mother turned away from them, toward the center of the kitchen, and memories flooded his mind of Jessica, of the battle with the Dream Leaper.

"No… Mum, no…" He whispered, but he was the only one who heard it. Haley's eyes widened suddenly, and her head snapped up, staring directly at the ceiling. At the same time, Mary looked up toward the ceiling, and Sam realized it was right beneath the spot Haley had been staring at earlier that day when she'd channeled the spirit.

"You, get out of my house!" Mary said to the poltergeist, her voice commanding and full of strength. "And let go of my son!" The roaring of the flames filled Sam's ears as they erupted around his mother, consuming her as they had twenty-two years before. In front of Sam, Dean looked away, unable to watch his mother 'die' for a second time. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to listen to the roaring, and the screaming.

And then it was over. With a final eruption of flame, Mary was gone. Sam fell limply to the floor, a sign that the poltergeist was gone as well. He looked around wildly, trying to find some sign that his mother was still there. She couldn't be gone. Not a second time. The tears he'd tried to hold back were running freely down his face now because he knew his mother was gone. She'd come with three feet of him, and then he'd had to watch as she was snatched away from them once more by the evil they were constantly hunting. He looked at Dean. His brother was staring at the spot where their mother had been, tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes.

Sam turned to Haley. Her eyes were closed, she was standing straight and still, barely breathing.

"Well?" He gasped. "Can you…? Is she…?" He couldn't finish either of those question. Haley's eyes opened, sadness and shame evident on her face. Slowly, she shook her head. Sam closed his eyes, a silent prayer going out for his mother. Dean continued to stare. None of them moved. They were all too much in shock by what they'd just witnessed.

"It's over…" Sam whispered softly. "It's over… she's gone…" He repeated it over and over, quietly, barely more then a whisper.

* * *

Haley sat on the hood of the impala, staring sadly up at the house. Dean was talking with Jenny, probably thanking her for the box she'd given then full of photo's from their childhood, and Sam was sitting on the front steps of the house having some sort of discussion with Missouri. 

She let out a shaky breath. Both brothers were on edge. Even with Sam all the way across the yard, she could feel the tension from him. They both felt bad about their mother's destruction. Haley could understand that; she'd destroyed herself and the poltergeist both in the house. Sam blamed himself for not realizing sooner what was going on, because it seemed his way to feel the weight of the world. Dean felt guilty for not being able to watch, like he'd failed his mother somehow for turning away at the last second.

Haley gave herself a shake. It had been Mary she'd been feeling over the past day; the first time, she'd tried to lead Haley up the stairs, but Dean had broken the connection before anything could happen. Then again when they were in the room with Missouri. She'd felt Mary's desperation to get the poltergeist out of the house, and she'd spoken the words Mary couldn't.

But most of all was when she'd healed Sam. It hadn't just been her empathy that had called him back. It was his mother's love that had allowed Haley to reach out to him.

She saw Sam getting up from the front steps with Missouri, and Dean seemed to be finished chatting with Jenny. She smiled sadly, giving the house one last, and climbed off the hood of the car.

The goodbyes were short and sweet, with Missouri finishing by telling them to come back and visit any time. Haley smiled, and Sam said they would. Then they got in the car, and drove away.

"So, where to now?" Haley asked from the back seat.

"Well, there're some cattle mutilations in West Texas." Dean said.

"And there's a Sacramento man who shot himself in the head... three times." Sam added.

"Okay." Haley said, leaning back against the seat. "We'll stop at a motel and you guys can get me dinner." She said with a grin, finishing the process they'd gone through the day Sam had gotten his first vision of the house. They all laughed louder then they had on that morning.

* * *

**A/N: And so, Home comes to a close. I think my brain's gone into hibernation… it's not telling me anything except what I'm writing right now. Oh well, please review, I know there are a lot more readers then there are reviewers, because there are lots of people who added this story to Alerts and Favourites. So please, to all those of you who haven't reviewed yet, they would be greatly appreciated.**


	21. Bitter Memories

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, and Alvira and her 'family'.

Author's Note: So, now that my brain had recovered from that serious overflow, I can start writing again.

Review Answers:

_Wildcat023_: Glad you loved, appreciate the comment on its greatness. Did you honestly think he wouldn't? Do you honestly think I'd kill my #1 favourite fictional character? It's actually highly possible I would, I do that sometimes. But not in this story.

_EvilTC_: Glad you liked it. Don't worry, Dean's going to get a lot more spotlight in the next couple of chapters. Some of it may not be what you like (evil chuckle), but oh well, you asked for it,so if he gets hurt,you'll have no one to blame but yourself.

_BridgetLynn_: Thanks, nice to know you think it's fantastic. Glad you like Haley, glad she seems real, that's a real good compliment.

Chapter 20 – Bitter Memories

* * *

It had been almost a week since they'd fought the poltergeist back in Lawrence. They'd spent the better part of that week recovering from the emotional scars that fight had left them with. Haley worst of all because she had to deal with Sam and Dean's on top of her own problems. They tried to keep themselves in check around her, but it was like fate was determined to make her suffer, and one way or another she was always in the same room as one or both of them when the emotions ran high. 

So, in an attempt to get herself and her empathy under control, she had sent Dean and Sam out to get lunch, and then locked herself in the hotel room with the laptop, deciding to do a search to see if she could find any jobs that didn't require too much.

As it turned out, there was something not too far away. A small town where at least two or three people were vanishing every couple of nights, only to turn up days later with two holes punctured in the sides of their neck, completely drained of blood. Haley furrowed her brow in thought; more often then not those two put together equaled vampires; and more often then not, normal people didn't put those two together. Which meant people would keep on disappearing for months before anyone did anything about it. And when someone did do something about it, that someone would just move up on the dinner menu. Unless that someone was armed and knew what they were getting themselves into.

She picked up her cell phone, with the intention of calling Sam and Dean to tell them, and was scrolling down the list of numbers when it highlighted John Winchester's number. She glanced around the room, as if expecting Sam and Dean to appear out of the walls and question her as to why she had their father's number on her mobile. The moment passed, and she hit the dial button, putting the mobile to her ear.

"_This is John Winchester._" Said his voicemail. "_If it's an emergency, call my son, Dean: 866 57 3235. He can help._"

"John Winchester, if you aren't the lowest- What man willingly sits by while his sons'- who I might add are still searching for him despite the fact he treats them like dirt- sit talking in another room?" She all-but shouted into the mobile. She took a deep breath. "You're manipulating them like pieces on a chess board!" So much for calming down. "Each set of coordinates the find, they think that maybe, this time, their father will be waiting for them. And guess what? He never is!" She gave a small frustrated cry, and jabbed the end call button. She was absolutely fuming. Never in her life had she known someone to treat their children so badly.

_No, not quite true. _She thought. She reached into a pocket of her leather pants and pulled out an old photograph. The corners were worn, and there were a couple of tears along the edges. It showed a woman in her early twenties, with straight blond hair that reached just past her shoulders. In her arms was a baby, barely a few days old. She smiled bitterly down at the photo. It had been taken about a week before her mother had fostered her out to the family she'd grown up with.

Looking down, Haley would never know the smiling woman in the photo was contemplating the possibility of giving up her daughter if she hadn't lived it. She'd known for as long as she could remember that the family that had raised her wasn't her birth family. They'd loved her, and she'd loved them (something she wasn't sure she could say about her birth mother), but she'd always wondered: what could make a mother give up her child? Weren't there supposed to be maternal instincts and what-not? When she was younger she'd tried to come up with legitimate reasons her mother had given her up. The delusions of a child who wanted her mother to be good. Now, though…

She gave a startled jump when her mobile rang. Shaking her head, she picked up the phone and checked the caller ID: John Winchester. A somewhat bemused look on her face, she answered the call.

"Would you mind explaining to me what that was about?" John's barely-contained anger could be heard even with God-knew how many miles between them.

"I'm sorry, John, is that you?" She asked. "It's been so long since we actually talked, I barely recognized your voice." She said. "Although, now that I have you, I'd like to talk to you about what a terrible person you are."

"If you really believed that, you'd have told Sam and Dean I was there." John said.

"No, I didn't tell them because of that." Haley said. "Your son's love you, and the closest they get to any returned love from you is an emotionless voicemail message. How many messages have they left for you, huh? Do you even listen to them, or do you just delete them?"

"Of course I listen to them, Haley, what do you think I am?" John snapped.

"Honestly, I don't know," Haley said.

"I was the one who had to raise those two after their mother died. I taught them everything they know-"

"Minus four years of college for Sam." Haley cut in, but John ignored her.

"-I made them what they are. I'm their father, they know I love them!"

"Do you?" Haley asked. "Because from where I'm standing, I honestly don't know." She sighed, relenting; she didn't need empathy to know she'd hit a nerve. "You raised them like soldiers; when all Sam wanted was to be raised like a boy. You send them on job after job; Dean follows your orders without question, and you can't even take the time to call him and congratulate him once in a while, if nothing else?" She stopped for a minute, then decided to go all the way. "Maybe it's time you stopped acting like their commander and started acting like their dad." She said. There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long time. Haley thought maybe he'd dropped the phone without hanging up. Then she heard his voice.

"This discussion is over." He said.

"Disc- Discussion?" She echoed. "You're acting like a talk about your sons' feelings is a battle plan!" No answer. "John Winchester, don't you dare hang up on me!" Too late. She heard the dial tone signalling he'd cut the connection. With a cry of frustration, she threw the mobile across the room to crash into the wall at the far end, falling broken to the floor.

"Haley, something wrong?"

Haley felt sure he heart jumped out of her chest when Dean's voice came from the other side of the room door.

"No, I'm fine…" She said. "How long have you been standing there?" She asked.

"Long enough to hear you throw something at the wall." Came Sam's voice. "You gonna unlock the door or do we have to break it down?" He asked.

"I'll be right there." She said, walking to the door, and picking up the remains of her mobile as she did so. She pulled the latch across, letting the brothers back into the room. Dean noticed the broken mobile in her hands almost immediately. "Don't ask." Haley said flatly.

"Don't tell." Was Dean's reply, walking past her. "We've got fries, burgers, nuggets, thick shakes."

"Is McDonalds all these places have these days?" Haley complained, though she happily took the box of nuggets Sam held out to her from the bag he was carrying.

"It was either this or a dirty looking café down the street." He said. "We thought McDonalds might be safer. And not just for our stomachs." Haley gave him a questioning look. "Don't ask."

"Don't tell." Haley said in exactly the same way Dean had to her. She opened the box and hungrily devoured one of the nuggets. "So… I think I found our next job." She said. Sam walked over to the computer, removing his glasses. His eyes had almost completely healed despite the explosion of light he'd been assaulted with back at their old house, but Dean insisted he wear them until the light didn't bother him at all. Sam had tried to argue that he would never know if it still bothered him. Of course, Dean had been going through the trunk and he'd found the hand cuffs at that exact moment (something Haley suspected wasn't a coincidence), so Sam had quickly shut up about the glasses.

"Vampires." He said almost immediately.

"Fast reader." Haley said, walking over to join him, devouring each of her nuggets one by one. Dean came over and dropped a packet of fries in front of Sam, who grabbed a few and went on reading.

"Does it say how long this has been going on?" Dean asked.

Sam scrolled down. "Three and a half months." He said. Dean nodded. "Which means if they've been recruiting as well as feeding, there's a chance there's quite a large family by now."

"Family?" Haley echoed sceptically. Sam looked up at her.

"Well, yeah, I mean, that's basically what they are, since a vampire who sires someone is then technically the mother or father vampire of the one they sired." He said.

"And you know this how?" Dean asked. Sam had a sheepish grin on his face.

"You're not the only one who watches TV shows with women fighting evil." He said. Dean laughed.

Haley looked from one brother, to the other, and then back to the first, and rolled her eyes. "Men." She muttered, shaking her head.

"Women." Sam muttered, pretending to be appalled.

"Brother's."

"Bitches." Dean said.

"Oh, that hurt." Haley and Sam said at the same time. Dean looked between the two of them.

"Okay, that whole synchronicity thing is really start to weird me out." He said. "Back to the vamps." He said.

"Well, there's nothing much to it." Sam said. "We found where they're roosting, and we wipe them out." He said. "Simple."

"Yeah, except wiping them out involves getting close enough for them to wipe us out." Dean said.

"Not necessarily." Haley said. She looked at them. "What? Are you saying you-? Oh, this is too good to be true: I actually know something about hunting that you don't?" She smiled gleefully, like a child who had just achieved something and was receiving high praise for it.

"So are you going to stand there basking in your brilliance or are you going to tell us what this information is that we don't know?" Dean said after a minute. Haley grinned.

"How much money have you got?" She asked.

"What, you want us to buy the information?" Dean asked, his face a mask of disbelief.

"No, you nitwit," Haley said, rolling her eyes. "We're going to need lots of money because we're going to need to buy lots and lots of stakes."

"Where from, 'Kills-Vampires R Us'?" Dean asked sceptically.

"No, the gardening supplies shop." Haley said, grinning. "Another thing about hunting vamps I know about that you don't."

"And are you going to tell us this first thing?" Sam asked, drawing his attention away from the computer. Haley smiled, opened her mouth, and changed her answer a split second before she said it.

"Nope," She said gleefully. "I'll tell you later after we have the stakes."

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think of Haley and John's conversation? I hope I did it okay. I was actually considering not putting it in at all, but I've got something in a future chapter that I needed the conversation for to lead up to. As always, please Review, much appreciated. 


	22. New Guns and a Whole Lot of Guilt

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley.

Author's Note: Lol, I just realized I mentioned Alvira and her family in the last disclaimer and never mentioned her in the actual chapter. That's because I cut the last chapter off early, before they met her. They'll actually be meeting her in the next chapter.

Oh, and a big thanks to Chase, who was brave enough to take on the burden of beta-ing this story. Ain't that just grand. But now I cant claim the mistakes as my own. Oh well, tough luck for me, thanks a bunch Chase, you're making writing this a whole lot easier.

Chapter 21 – New Guns and a Whole Lot of Guilt

* * *

"And why do we need this many stakes?" Dean asked. 

"Because, there's going to be at least two dozen vampires by my estimate, possibly more, and I don't want to run out of ammo halfway through the fight," she said. Dean nodded, shaking his head with a small laugh.

"Mutilating garden stakes to use as bullets," he said. "I've gotta say, that's… that's something."

"Well, I can't take credit for it," Haley said. Then she stopped her carving, as if she'd said something she shouldn't have.

"What?" Sam asked. He had a small pile of garden stake points about the size of shot-gun bullets in front of him, and his thirteenth stake in hand, ready to be carved up into another bullet.

"Er… nothing." Haley said. Dean exchanged a glance with Sam. "It's just… the guy who taught me this stuff, we… I haven't seen him in… a while," she said.

"Uh-huh." Dean said. "Well, we'll have to track him down one day and thank him for the info." Haley's stake snapped in her hand. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"No, nothing." Haley said quickly. A little too quickly. "We just… didn't part on the best of terms… I don't think I could stop myself from… doing some unkind things… if I saw him again," she said. "To put it mildly," she added. Dean nodded in an 'I don't quite understand but I'll pretend to' kind of way. Sam had already returned his attention to his stake.

"So, explain to me how this works again," Dean said.

"Not much to be explained." Haley said. "The stake points pretty much act like rock salt against a ghost. We load the gun, and shoot the vampires in the heart. Vamps go boom, and we stay out of fang-to-neck-combat range." She finished her tenth stake and put it in her pile. "I need a toilet break. Be right back." She got up and left the room. As soon as he was sure she was out of ear shot, Dean put down his stake and looked over at Sam.

"You think it was Dad that taught her this?" he asked.

"About as much chance of that as that really being Dad she was shouting at when we got back." Sam said, putting down his stake as well. "Think she knows we know?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, if she did she wouldn't be acting as normal, or as panicked when I told it would be good to meet her informant," he said. "I can't believe it… she's been in contact with Dad all this time and we didn't see it."

"Do you think he sent her to us?" Sam asked. "Or she came of her own choice?"

"Well, unless she's a very good actor-"

"We already know she's a good actor because we've been with her for… however long… and we haven't suspected at all."

"-judging by the fact she seemed extremely reluctant to be with us when we first met," Dean continued, ignoring Sam, "I'd say it was Dad's choice, not hers."

"So, the question is," Sam said, "what do we do about it?"

"Well, I figure, as long as she doesn't bring it up," Dean said, "we don't bring it up." Sam blinked, looking shocked.

"Er… did you forget the part where she's been lying to us?" he asked. "How do you know she hasn't been using that whole 'telling the truth by telling a lie' thing she said she's good at from day one?"

Dean bit his lip, trying to think what to do. "We keep quiet," he said. "She's helped us plenty since she hooked up with us," he continued, "as long as she keeps helping us, I don't see a problem." Sam gave his brother a skeptical look, but Haley chose that moment to return, so they couldn't continue their discussion.

"So, what did you boys talk about while I was gone?" she asked.

"How many vampires we're going to shoot before they get close enough to-" Dean crossed his eyes and opened his mouth, then closed it again, like he was biting down on something. Haley shuddered.

"Okay, visual description not needed, I withdraw the question," she said, looking down at her pile of stake points. "Think we have enough?" she asked.

"You're the expert on this." Sam said. Dean shot him a look. His brother had reverted back into that distrusting, childish personality he'd had when they'd first met Haley. Haley seemed confused by his manner, but must've decided to let it slide.

"I never said I was an expert," she said. "Only that… okay, yes, I think there's enough, so long as we never miss," she said. "But since no one's perfect, I think we each need at least half a dozen more."

"Well, we better hurry," Dean said, checking his watch, "It's almost four-thirty, and we still need to get there before dark."

They continued to scrape away at the stakes for another twenty minutes before they agreed it was time to go. Some of the points were small; some were even smaller, and those tiny ones ended up in Haley's tiny pistol. Dean loaded his own gun with the medium sized ones, as did Sam, and then they loaded their salt-guns with the largest stake points.

Dean pulled on his leather jacket, slid the two pistols Haley had given him, plus his own, into three inside pockets. Haley didn't need her coat to hide her pistols. Though, much to Dean's disappointment, she didn't put them where she had the last time he'd seen her use them, instead sliding them into the pockets of her pants. Sam had hidden the one remaining pistol of Haley's in an outer pocket of his jacket, and his own gun behind his belt, hidden by the back of his jacket.

"How're we supposed to hide the stake-guns?" Dean asked. Haley thought for a moment, and then walked into the bathroom, returning with three somewhat ragged towels.

"Towels? You want us to hide our weapons, in suspicious looking towels?" Sam asked skeptically, eyeing the towels.

"You got a better idea?" Haley asked. Sam gave her a sullen look, which she returned with a confused one. Nevertheless, he and Dean handed her their stake-guns and she wrapped them up in the towels, and then handed them back to their owners. "Ready?"

* * *

"Ready." Dean said, cocking his gun. Behind him, he heard Sam finishing loading his. He looked slowly around the cemetery they'd chosen to start their search for the vampires. It seemed normal enough, if a little quiet for Dean's liking. He didn't like quiet; when there was no noise, there was too much room for thought, and thinking was not something that was good to do right before a fight started. At least, not the thoughts that always found their way into Dean's head. Pretty much every scenario of what could go wrong seemed to flash through Dean's mind as he waited in the silence for something to happen. 

Dean saw Sam spin around out of the corner of his eyes, and turned to look in his direction. He strained his ears to hear something, anything. It was hard enough fighting these things at night; waiting for them to attack made it all the worse.

"Come on, are you going to come out on your own or are we going to play hide and seek?" he shouted out to the darkness. Sam glanced over at him, and he shrugged. Sam didn't say or do anything, simply returned his attention the cemetery around them.

"How 'bout we play?" Dean spun around, training his gun on the chest of the man he saw step out from behind a tall tree. He hesitated for a split second, unsure if the guy was a vampire or just a regular old weight lifter. Then Dean saw the guy's mouth open, revealing elongated canines and pointed fang-like front teeth. Dean fired, but the vampire moved at the last second, and the wooden spike grazed his arm. Growling in frustration, Dean quickly reloaded and fired a second time as the vampire charged at him. The spike plunged into the vampire's forehead.

A piercing scream filled the night as the vampire staggered from the pain.

"Well, at least they still feel pain," he said. He reloaded a second time, and fired, hitting the vampire square in the heart. There was a split second where the vampire looked down at his chest, the spike in his head forgotten, and then he vanished in a shower of ashes. "One down, and god-knows how many more to go," Dean said, taking a fourth spike from his pocket and reloading his gun. "See anymore?" he asked.

"Not yet." Sam replied, rotating slowly, gun at the ready. Out of the corner of his eyes, Dean caught sight of movement.

"Sam, to your left!" he shouted. Sam spun, gun pointed straight at the young man who looked like he'd been a school teacher before he became undead. Sam pulled the trigger, and the spike shot across the short distance and plunged into the vampire's chest, resulting in another shower of ashes.

"Dean, dead ahead," came Haley's voice. Dean saw the vampire, a once-young woman in what looked horrifyingly like a wedding dress charged across the cemetery toward him. He pulled the trigger, and another vampire bit the dust.

"Is it just me or do they not seem very organized?" Dean called out to his brother.

"Undead aren't known for their intelligence, Dean," was Sam's distracted reply, followed by another gunshot and another cry of pain. "But yeah, this seems strange even for vampires." Dean rotated around on the spot, ears straining to hear anything that might lead to another vampire.

He stopped, seeing a shadow move near Haley. He opened his mouth to warn her, and then all his senses were filled with a blinding pain that centered at the back of his head.

* * *

Sam looked up when he heard something like glass shattering and saw a woman with long dark hair standing over Dean, who was lying unconscious at her feet. Sam presumed the woman was another vampire, and in her hand was the neck and top half of a wine bottle. He growled in frustration as his hand shot for his pocket where all his ammo was being held, and he rushed to get one out to load his gun as the vampire lowered herself to her knees. 

"Haley!" he shouted, glancing over and seeing Haley just finishing reloading her gun. "Haley, Dean!" Haley looked over, gun coming up, and froze when she saw the vampire. Sam continued in a panic rush to try and get the stake points into his gun, glancing up every second to see why Haley hadn't fired yet. "Fire, damn it!" He shouted at her. She was shaking all over, her eyes wide. And then she turned away, gun falling from her hands.

Sam cried out in triumph as he finally got the spike into his gun, raised it, and fired at the vampire, her fangs inches from his brother's neck. She looked up and stared at him in shock for a split second before vanishing, her dusty remains showering down over Dean.

Almost immediately, all the vampires that had been approaching froze, there eyes shifting nervously. Then they fled.

Sam blinked, letting his hands fall to his sides, looking around at the fleeing vampires, trying to make sense of what was happening. Then he remembered his two out-of-action comrades-in-arms. He glanced from Haley, who was on her knees, head in her hands, sobbing, to Dean, who was lying unconscious and covered in vampire ashes. He chose Dean, running to his side and putting two fingers to his neck just to make sure he was unconscious and not dead. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a steady beat beneath his fingers. He looked over at Haley again; she was still sobbing. He bit back a few unkind words he wanted to shout at her, turning back to his brother.

"Dean, you okay?" he asked, giving his brother a slight shake. "Come on, Dean, wake up." Sam closed his eyes, taking in a few breaths when his brother didn't wake up. He opened his eyes again, looking hopelessly down at Dean.

"Haley, you okay?" he asked through clenched teeth. He got a murmured response, and shook his head. Pulling out his mobile, he dialed the emergency number and asked for an ambulance.

* * *

Dean returned groggily to a state of consciousness. He opened his eyes straight away, feeling like someone was standing over him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was Sam. 

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, smiling down at him. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I slammed my head against a brick wall." He groaned. Sam smiled, and Dean heard someone clear their throat behind Sam, and his younger brother moved out of the way to let a doctor come up to him.

"That's exactly what you did, according to your brother," the doctor said, checking Dean's pupils with a small torch. "Do you remember much?"

_I remember shooting a bunch of vampires with stake points. _He thought. He shook his head. "No, not really," he said, lying back against the pillows. He looked over at his brother, a questioning look in his eyes. Sam nodded to show he understood.

"Can I have a minute alone with my brother?" he asked.

"You can have as many minutes as you like," said the doctor, "from what I can tell, it's just some minors bruises and scrapes to his scalp. He should be allowed out tomorrow morning," he said. He nodded at Dean, and then turned and walked away. Dean made sure the doctor was well away before turn his attention to his brother.

"Okay, so what really happened, I wasn't kidding about not remembering," he said.

"How much do you remember?" Sam asked. Dean wracked his brain for the answer to that question.

"I remember shooting the buff vampire. Then the rest is sort of a blur." Sam nodded.

"Okay, that was the first one we dusted, and we dusted quite a few more after that," he explained. "I'm not sure exactly what happened. I just heard you go down, turned around and saw a vampire standing over you with a broken bottle in her hand. Haley freaked out and stopped shooting her gun, and you were very nearly made dinner, and I don't mean in the way Haley likes, by that same vampire." He stopped for a minute, looking down at Dean. "On the subject of Haley, I need to go talk to her about her breakdown. If you'll excuse me…" He turned and walked away. Dean watched his brother go, and then laid back contentedly against his pillows. It felt nice to relax.

He'd only been in his pleasant state of relaxation for about a minute before he was disrupted by a reasonably attractive nurse. He grinned up at her. She looked down at him, a somewhat cold smile on her face. Dean saw an intimidatingly large needle in her hand, and his eyes doubled in size.

"Wh-what's that for?" he asked. The nurse ignored him, injecting the fluid in the needle into his drip. Normally this may not have bothered him, but the nurse's cold smile, coupled with the large needle, on top of the fact that the doctor saying he was perfectly okay, made him more than a little suspicious. "Hey, would you mind-?" Before he could finished, the nurse placed the empty needle on the bedside table and spun around to face him, opening her mouth to reveal long fang-like teeth. "Oh my-!" She clapped a hand against his mouth before he could finish, leaning forward so fast their faces almost collided. But she stopped with their noses barely an inch apart, smiling cruelly down at him.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word," she whispered in a scary sort of sing-song voice. "It doesn't matter now, because you won't be heard." He was beginning to feel groggy again. He tried to push her off, but whatever she had injected into him was fast working its way through his system. His eye lids quivered dangerously as he tried to stay focused. He cringed as she leaned past his face, her mouth opening, coming slowly towards his neck. He tried desperately to cry out to Sam, to the doctor, to anyone who could come in here and get the undead nurse off of him.

He kept fighting to stay conscious. Fought until the very end, trying desperately to push her off him. But eventually the drug won out, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

**A/N: And that concludes Chapter 21 of the Heart of Gold. I've decided that after these vampire chapters, there'll be a few long awaited secrets revealed. Not saying how though. Hehe.**


	23. Untouched by Warmth

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, and Alvira and her family.

Author's Note: Another big thankyou to Chase for being my beta reader. You're making everything so much easier for me, at much risk to your personal sanity.

Background: This chapter and the next chapter take place time-wise at approximately the same time. Originally, they were going to be the same chapter, and then I decided that I did want to make this chapter completely from Dean's point of view.

Review Answers:

_Wildcat023_: Glad you like the vampire idea. And I'm glad you liked the Haley/John convo, I was considering leaving it out, but then I decided I needed it (have I said that before?). Also, in response to your second review since I last replied to reviews, I've got a little present for you at the bottom of this chapter.

_Ghostwriter_: Thanks for the review. I wouldn't have thought I was so good you'd be hoping Eric Kripke's would be as good. Wow, major ego inflation.

_BridgetLynn_: Don't worry, after the vampire chapters are done, I intend to reveal how Haley is connected with the boys, and maybe with John, not sure about him yet. But definitely Sam and Dean. Yeah, I know, poor Dean, he's in for one hell of a ride in this chapter.

_Vampiress04_: Excuse me, I just had another major ego inflation. Okay, I'm over it now, thanks for being so nice, if not completely honest (if you're being completely honest, I'm going to ask what medication you're on, lol, I had no idea I was THAT good). And I'm considering giving Dean a power, I've even got a vague idea what it might be, though it's not goign to be anything like Sam and Haley's.

Chapter 22 – Untouched by Warmth

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Dean woke with a start and gave a startled gasp of pain as he tried to move and felt thick ropes digging into his bare arms and chest. He bit back a whimper of pain as he tried to move his hands and felt even tighter rope cutting into his wrists like hot wire.

He took a moment to try and calm down the raging pain he was feeling from his wrists. When he was sure he was okay, at least for the moment, he looked around, taking in his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed after the pain subsided to a dull burn-like-feeling, was that he was tied down to… what, he didn't know, but it was sloped, running up past his head, and cold against his bare back. He was tied against it, with his arms pulled around behind it (or under it, it was still hard to tell _how_ sloped it was). He guessed that it might be a rock. It felt like rock against his back, though he was still rather disoriented, so he didn't think he could really rely on what he felt.

The second thing he noticed was that there was nothing else to notice. The room, if it had anything else of interest or if it was a room for that matter, was far too dark for him to make anything else out.

"Is he awake?" a voice whispered from the darkness that surrounded him. "He slept for so long, Alvira was afraid they may have killed him." Whoever it was who was speaking, she had a slight accent. From where, Dean had no idea. But he was slowly remembering just who had put him under in the first place. His eyes went wide as realization hit him. At that exact moment, what was once a young, very attractive woman with cascading red-gold hair and grey-blue eyes stepped into his limited line of vision.

The vampire was suddenly right in front of him, moving with unnatural speed, even for her kind. There faces were mere inches apart, her dull eyes staring hungrily into his green ones. "You're so beautiful…" she whispered softly, almost seductively. "So fresh… so…" She closed her eyes, licking her lips as if savoring the taste of something. Dean tried to move… anything, really. But between the ropes holding him against the rock and the vampire woman now lying on top of him, he was completely immobilized. "Don't do that, my love," the vampire whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're under Alvira's spell now." She was straddling him now, looking down at him where he lay. Something about the way she was gazing down at him scared Dean more then anything he could remember, except maybe that nightmare he'd had under the dream leaper's spell. Aside from that, nothing scared him like the way this vampire was looking at him.

"What do you… er…" He tried to sound stronger, more confident, than he felt. "What do you want me for?" he asked, more than a little uncomfortable with her trailing her finger along his chest. By now he knew there was no way to stop her, no way to get away. His only chance was to hope Sam and Haley would figure out what happened and come and find him.

"I'm so cold…" the vampire said absently, rubbing her arms with her hands. Dean wasn't cold, even stripped down to his boxers, he didn't feel very cold. "They were all so cold. All of them. Alvira killed them all because they didn't satisfy." She leaned down kissing him roughly. Dean's eyes widened as he realized what this vampire was talking about. "Warm me, my love," she said, eyes closed, parting their lips momentarily to say that. "Be in me, warm me; Alvira is so cold." And then it hit him. This vampire wasn't talking about someone else called Alvira; she was talking about herself in the third person.

_Just great, _Dean thought to himself. _Of all the vampires I could be assaulted by it had to be a mentally unstable one._

"You don't have to fight her, Dean," Alvira whispered. Her hands trailed down toward his boxers. "She can be very pleasing. And she's so cold, she can't feel your warmth."

_That's because you're undead, darling,_ Dean thought, _get over it. _He tried to move his legs, but realized they were tied to the stone as well. "No…" Dean tried (unsuccessfully) to push her off of him, tried to move his head so that she would stop kissing him. She took hold of his head with both hands so he'd stop moving, holding him completely still. He shuddered; the not-cold feeling he'd had moments ago giving way to a chill that ran down his spine.

Finally, she pulled back. "You're fighting her… don't fight her, Dean, she'll get angry." She held him by his chin with such strength that Dean had a feeling she could break his neck with that one hand. "She'll get very… very…" she bared her fangs. "Angry." He knew what was coming, then, as she leaned back down, mouth coming to his neck. He tried to prepare himself for it, tried to. That didn't make it any less painful, though, when she sank her fangs into the side of his neck. He didn't know when he started screaming, whether it was just before or right after she bit into him. But he did. And then he couldn't stop because it was pain like nothing he'd felt before.

* * *

He wasn't sure when he passed out, when he stopped screaming, or when he woke up again, for that matter. But he knew he'd done all three of them. Alvira had left him... with two bloody holes in his neck. He didn't know how long he'd been screaming, but it was obviously long enough to get on Alvira's nerves, because she'd stated that she never got to eat in peace anymore. 

So he was left to his pain and his fear, with barely seen shadows wandering around him. And silence. His occasional whimpers of pain did nothing to push it back. All he could do was wait, and cry, because in the darkness, all alone, he wasn't ashamed to cry. No one could see him. No one could call him weak. Especially when he'd had a blood-sucking bitch hanging off his neck for what seemed like an eternity.

He would occasionally attempt to move his arms or hands - if for no other reason than to remind himself they were still there - because he thought maybe the rope was starting to cut the circulation off.

There wasn't really much to do, except lay there and ponder all the different ways he might not get out of this alive. There was the possibility of Alvira deciding to turn him into a vampire. Or she could decide she wanted to finish her meal, and just bite down all the way. Because he knew that the bite was shallow, or he'd probably have bled to death by now. There was also that other possibility: that she (or for that matter, another vampire) might take a bite and be a little less careful of how deep, then just leave him to bleed to death.

He wasn't really enjoying all these unpleasant thoughts racing through his mind. But being completely alone in a dark room didn't leave much else to do. Except to hope like hell that Sam would find out he was missing soon and come and save him.

"Oh, that's just great. I'm relying on my little brother to come rescue me," he said to himself. He closed his eyes, trying to slow his racing heart. How long had it been since Alvira had left? He had no idea, because he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. He hoped it hadn't been too long; he was in no hurry to repeat his experience with her. "Come on, Sammy, don't let me down," he whispered quietly to the darkness. He closed his eyes; he felt so tired. And his neck felt like someone was driving two needles into it, even now, no matter however many minutes or hours had passed since Alvira had withdrawn her fangs.

"_You're tasty, so tasty… the taste of fear is such a sweet thing." She looked down at him. "But she can't enjoy her meal while you're making all that noise…"_

He hadn't really been conscious at that time, but he remembered her words like she'd said them just seconds ago.

"Is he awake? Alvira thinks he's not sleeping again." Dean's eyes snapped shut when he heard the vampire's voice. _Yes, I'm asleep, come back and eat later,_ he begged silently. He felt the cold-as-death touch of the vampire's skin against his cheek. He couldn't suppress a shiver in time, and she knew he was awake. "Open your eyes, Dean. She so wants to look into those beautiful eyes." He kept his eyes shut, shaking his head slightly. "Open them!" she shouted in his ear. He was so shocked he gave a startled jerk in his bonds, letting out a barely stifled cry of pain as the ropes dug into his arms and chest. His eyes snapped open from the pain. "There, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Alvira said, smiling down at him in a scary sort of way that sent shivers down Dean's spine. He winced, but shook his head again, slowly.

"What are you gonna do with me?" he asked. Alvira smiled, her hands reaching down for his boxers again. He let out a small whimper, but he didn't try to do anything this time. If it kept her fangs off of him, he was willing to let her… he didn't want to think about it.

"That's right, Dean, let her in, and she'll let you in." She said straddling him again, positioned absolutely (and horrifyingly) perfect for her to push onto him, taking him into her body.

Dean suddenly felt like every bone in his body had been coated in ice water. So this was what it was like to… he couldn't think of it as making love… be raped… that was a good word for it. So this was what it was like to be raped by a vampire.

"She's cold…" Alvira broke into his thoughts as she rocked back and forth, moaning softly. "So cold… warm her, Dean. She wants to be warm."

_I can't warm you, bitch, _Dean thought. _We've been over this; you're undead, you can't be warmed._ He held back a laugh; he couldn't let her think he was enjoying it; that would just be too much.

He let out a soft groan. He felt like someone was slowly working their way up his body with an ice cube. His arms ached from being held in the same position for much longer than he cared to consider. And his hands felt like they were about to drop off. Cliffnotes version: he felt like frozen crap.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulled back, releasing him from her hold, and leaving him shivering and, for all intents and purposes, naked and staring hopelessly up at her, too weak to do anything more, and hoping against hope that she was satisfied enough to leave his neck alone. That was the only thing he could think about, because he felt like that cold feeling had reached his brain, fogging it, making it hard to string more then a few coherent thoughts together at a time.

"It's time, my love." _Oh no. _"She's hungry… she needs to feed because you didn't warm her." _Please, God, no, no, no, no!_ "Don't worry… she won't hurt you too much." Dean looked pleadingly up at her. Yes, he'd brought himself to a whole new low and was on the verge of begging her not to. His lower lip quivered, his breath quickened, and he shut his eyes tight as she lowered herself onto him, mouth opening and teeth lengthening into fangs. He let out the smallest whimper as her fangs touched the two holes where she'd bitten him before. Then his eyes opened wide and he screamed as she sank in, breaking open the wounds and letting the blood flow freely intoher mouth.

She pulled back earlier than he expected.

"Why does he make it so difficult?" she groaned. "Why can't Alvira just eat in peace?" She shook her head in frustration, clenching her fangs. She looked down at him, a frustrated look in her eyes. "Don't make her do something." Dean wasn't really listening. He was crying, on the verge of hysteria. He couldn't stop it, couldn't stop the tears from coming. He felt tired, he felt sick, and he felt like finding someone to drive a stake through _his_ heart, because he just couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't bear to have her sink her fangs in a third time.

"Silence!" Alvira shouted. She hit him, and he didn't do anything to stop her. "Be quiet!" She hit him again, and he just let his head loll back, leaning against the slab of stone or whatever it was he was tied against, and continued to cry, trying to be quiet, because he couldn't stand any more pain at the hands of the vampire.

Finally, he felt her leave him, he felt her weight lift from his body, and he felt the warmth of the night air fall against his body where Alvira's ice-cold body had been.

"She'll make you wish you were quiet." Her voice came to his ears, and he tried to be as quiet as he could with his crying. He nodded, maybe to himself, maybe to Alvira. He just kept crying, trying to keep quiet. Eventually, he managed to sob himself into exhaustion, falling asleep.

**

* * *

**

**A/N:** First, let me explain Alvira. I was writing the first of these vampire chapters, while thinking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Against my better judgment, I let my imagination wander, and through some cruel trick, Drusilla became mixed with the Woman in White from Supernatural, and poof, Alvira was born.

Secondly, I hope Dean's over-emotional-ness wasn't too out of character for him. I was thinking it might be while I was writing it, but I liked it too much to ditch it. I could imagine Dean acting like this, I hope you all can too. If not, well, it's not forever, just probably 'til the end of the next chapter.

Now, I've been wanting to add something more to the end then an A/N for a while, and I re-read a fic the other day that had interviews with Sam and Dean at the end. While I don't think I'll be doing that (at least not for a while), Ithought Wildcat023's review was the perfect opening for this. So, (drops Wildcat023 and the vampire nurse into an arena - Wildcat023 is armed with a stake) do with this what you will. Tell me if you enjoy it.


	24. Tormented Minds

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, and Alvira and her family.

Background: This chapter and the last chapter take place time-wise at approximately the same time. Originally, they were going to be the same chapter, and then I decided that I did want to make this chapter completely from Dean's point of view. But there was something I wanted to do with Sam and Haley that happened at about the same time. So, two chapters were made for the price of one.

Author's Note: Meanwhile, Sam and Haley are yet to find out Dean's missing.

Review Answers: Oh, all these reviews, yay, so happy! Keep 'em coming.

_greenka87_: Well, you don't have to worry. This chapter, then the next, he should be free. Probably. Hopefully. But you never know… but I'll see what I can do. And don't worry, secrets soon.

_BridgetLynn_: Hmmm, inquiring minds wanna know. But inquiring minds have learned not to ask, so I'll just leave you to your thoughts. Glad you liked it. And I'm also happy you think it was well done (you do think that don't you?), and I agree, it would be a scary thing.

_Wildcat023_: Lol, sorry for the confusion. You said in your last review you wanted to put a stake through the undead nurse's heart, so I helped you do it. Just something I've seen one or two other author's do once or twice, thought I'd try it out. I obviously didn't do it right, lol, because everyone seemed to understand it for the other author's.

Now onto the seriousness. I'm glad you could see Dean acting that way. I've discovered I like putting my characters (be they in fanfiction or completely my own) through emotional trauma, lol. This seemed like the ideal place to do it (insert innocent smile). And here's your next chapter, hope it's fast enough for you.

_Ghostwriter_: GASP! You've seen 'Dean Man's Blood'! So jealous, it's not on where I am yet. GASP! You think this is better then it? Wow, thanks, I feel so… well, I can't think of a word for it, so I'm gonna do what Dean does and cheapen the moment. Major ego inflation, hehe, helps to write. And I'm glad you saw the Dru-ness in Alvira. I've discovered as of late that I like all the bad girls in these shows; Darla, Dru (BtVS), Meg (Supernatural)… Okay, those are the only ones, lol, but originally Alvira was going to be based solely on Darla, because I decided I liked her. But the imagination wouldn't stand for a perfectly sane vampire torturing Dean, no, she had to mentally unstable. Thanks again for such a wonderful compliment; I'll see if I can keep up with these standards.

Chapter 23 – Tormented Minds

* * *

Sam did his best not to storm down the hospital hallway to get to Haley, who was sitting in the waiting room. She hadn't said a thing since they'd left the cemetery. She'd taken just enough time to say sorry to Dean for not being able to help him, and then she'd withdrawn into herself again. Well, Sam didn't give a damn how withdrawn she was, he was going to give her a piece of his mind. 

She flinched as he approached, and Sam remembered that she could sense his anger if it was strong enough. And it was definitely strong enough. She looked at him, and he stared straight back at her; instead of trying to keep his emotions in check like he normally did around her, he pushed them at her, made sure she knew that every bit of anger he was feeling was because of her.

And yet, when he spoke, his voice was as steady as a rock. And as hard as one as well. "Why didn't you do it?" he asked slowly, his voice not matching the look of rage in his eyes. Haley looked away, but he walked around and knelt in front of her so that she had to look at him. "Why did you just stand there while she tried to make a meal out of my brother!" he demanded. "He could have been killed out there."

"Don't you think I know that!" Haley snapped, shoving Sam backwards and getting to her feet. The look in her eyes was a mirror image of his, and he realized he'd forgotten one thing about empathy: sometimes, Haley could channel the emotions as well. She was on her feet in an instant, and, before he knew what had happened, he was flat on his back with Haley straddling his chest. "I'm the one who has to deal with it, every minute of every hour of every day! I deal with the guilt and the joy and the sorrow and the anger, do you think that just this once, you could give me one lousy break?" She shook her head. "But no, of course not, because that would mean being nice to Haley, the girl you distrust and despise. By the way, what brought that back? I thought we'd gotten past these issues. Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Sam had tried to look away. He understood now why Haley had flinched. Even with her petit form, the fury in her eyes made her look much more intimidating than she was, and he quickly snapped his head back to stare up at her. "You have no idea what it's like to feel this… in your head, all the time, it's like a noise… and I can't shut it out." Her hands were at her temples, rubbing them slowly, and the anger in both of them was slowly starting to recede. It was as if when Haley had channelled his anger, she'd drained it out of him and into her, and now it was slowly draining from her as well. "I saw her, Sam…" she sobbed, laying her head against his chest. "She was… standing over Dean when I… tried to shoot the vampire… and she was looking at me… it's my fault…"

Sam had an idea who 'she' was. The girl Haley had shot back in Stone Gates. Slowly, awkwardly, he pulled both of them into a sitting position, there on the floor of the hospital waiting room. He felt like a right fool. He'd been so angry with Haley when he and Dean had found out she'd been lying to them, that when Dean had gotten hurt he'd used it as an excuse to shout at her. Now he was sitting there with the girl he'd almost hated just hours ago leaning against his chest… crying into his jacket.

"It… it's going to be okay." What else could he say? He'd never been good at comforting people. He'd never really had much practice growing up; Dean had been the only real person he knew, and Dean was always the one comforting him.

"How?" Haley asked, looking up at him. "I see her face every time I open my eyes; she's in the face of every girl I look at, and she's blaming me for what I did. And I can… feel the blame. It's always there, like a knife driving into my heart." She closed her eyes. "How do you live with the guilt, Sam? How do you get over the people you've killed, and the people you've lost?" Sam sighed, not sure he really wanted the conversation to go in this direction. But, as everyone knows, Winchester's rarely get what they want, so he answered.

"You don't," he said. "It never gets any easier. I mean, maybe, for Dean and for Dad, they both shut off there feelings with the flick of a switch." He rocked her gently back and forth, like he had Jessica back at Stanford occasionally. "But not for people like us. Our hearts are too open to it all. But you learn to accept it. And you learn that, whatever the circumstances, it can't be undone. And eventually, you learn that you can't save everyone." He closed his eyes. This was way to close for comfort. He slowly pulled away from her. "Come on, I think it's time for a lesson in dealing."

Haley gave him a puzzled look. He gave her a soft smile. "I'm going to do for you what Dean did for me the first time I was responsible for someone's death."

"Did you ever kill an innocent girl?" Haley asked sceptically. Sam glanced around the room quickly; making sure no one had heard what she'd said. When he was sure they were safe, he answered the question.

"No, I didn't," he admitted. "But when I was fourteen I had to watch as a demon tore apart a woman Dad had told me to watch."

"Oh my god, _fourteen_?" Haley asked. Sam nodded sadly.

"He told me it was the easier job. That all I had to do was watch over her while he and Dean went and hunted down the demon and sent it back to Hell," he said. "I waited for… it must've been six hours. The woman was… well, she was scared out of her wits, so I decided to get the two of us something to drink from the kitchen…"

_

* * *

July 14, 1997_

_Sam pulled open the fridge door, looking at the shelves. They weren't very full, but Sam found the jug filled with the lemonade Dean had helped him squeeze the day before. He grabbed the jug, taking it over to the bench and grabbing two glasses, one for himself and one for Rebecca, from the sink and rinsing them out._

_He was just done pouring the lemonade into the first glass when he heard a scream come from the living room. Barely taking enough time to set the jug on the bench, his hunter's instincts kicked in, and he ran out into the hall, grabbing the gun propped up against the wall, and then ran as fast as he could to the living room._

_His eyes went wide when he saw what had caused his charge to scream. Standing between Sam and Rebecca was what might have just been a tall black robe with a hood at first glance. But then Sam saw the long fingers protruding from with the sleeves of the cloak, ending in hooked talon-like claws._

_It turned to face him as he ran into the room, but he couldn't see a face; all there was was a shadowy shape within the hood, and two glowing blue eyes, like two orbs of ice, staring straight at him._

_He lifted his gun to shoot it, but the thing came at him too fast, backhanding him across the face and sending him hurtling through the air to crash into the wall at the other end. He fell to the floor, his back sending painful warning signals to his brain every few seconds. He winced, looking up and expecting to see the demon advancing on him. Instead, it was advancing on Rebecca. Sam looked wildly around the room for the gun, and saw it lying on the floor about six feet away from him, in two pieces. His eyes widened in horror as he realized he had no way to fight the demon off. He turned back to look at it, and his horror doubled in strength as the demon reached out and took hold of Rebecca by the throat. Sam was shocked to see she wasn't screaming; then again, she was probably too paralysed by fear to even think about screaming._

_And he watched as it sprang, hurtling toward her like a lion, claws sinking into her chest as it reached her. Then she screamed. It lifted her on its claws, bringing more screams, and threw her across the room. Sam couldn't move, couldn't think, could barely breathe, horrified and at the same time transfixed by what was going on in front of him. He couldn't look away no matter how much he wanted to._

_There were no words in any language he knew that could describe what it did to her. It killed her, eventually, slowly, prolonging her suffering for as long as it could. And Sam could only watch. A small blessing was that Rebecca had landed on the opposite side of the couch, too close to it for him to see her and see what was actually happening to her. But her screams, and the shadows cast upon the wall, were more than enough to tell him what was happening. Eventually the screams died down. Sam crouched there, eyes darting around the room, searching for the demon. It couldn't have left, wouldn't have left, not while he was still alive. That was its MO; it killed anyone connected to its victims. It killed their family, their friends, their doctor, their employer, their employees… Anyone who came into contact with them. It was like it wouldn't stop until it had wiped out every last memory of someone._

_So he knew it was still there, waiting for him, taunting him. And after it killed him, it would go after his brother, and his Dad. It would finish what it was doing in this town, and then it would probably go to Lawrence, because that was where most of the people his Dad knew lived._

* * *

Sam breathed a small sigh. "Dad got back just before it came out of hiding. And he exorcised it. He made Dean take me outside so that I wouldn't see her… remains, but… I can't imagine what remains there would be." He kept his voice steady, but inside that memory still tore him apart. "I… I couldn't even think about picking up a gun for weeks after that. Dad didn't know. Dean managed to talk him into leaving me behind for the more dangerous hunts, so that I wouldn't have to fight. But eventually Dad needed both of us to fight again." 

"What happened?" Haley asked.

"Dean put me in his car at about midnight, when Dad finally went to sleep. We drove about a mile out of town, and we stopped," he said. "Dean handed me a gun, lined a dozen tin cans up, and he told me to shoot them until there was nothing left. I couldn't even hit them for about half an hour." He gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "But eventually I managed it. And I shot them until they were the tiniest pieces of burned up iron. Then he lined up another dozen, and I did it again. He told me to keep going until I'd let it all out, all the guilt and the fear and… all of it. We didn't get back the hotel until just before five, about five minutes before Dad woke us up again to get ready for the hunt."

"Bet you two loved that." Haley said. Sam gave another small laugh.

"We were on the edge of sleep all day. It's just a good thing we were only doing recon that day, or Dean and I may not be here right now. If the demon hadn't killed us, Dad may have." He laughed, but he stopped when Haley didn't, a strange look on her face. He remembered the few sentences of her shouting match she'd had with his Dad that he'd heard, and realized right then just how much Haley cared about him and Dean. Wherever she'd stood with his Dad, whatever privileges she'd had with him to actually get a conversation with him, he and Dean were obviously worth more to her.

"Okay, I'm sensing something." Haley said, narrowing her eyes. "You feel more at peace right now than you have since we left Lawrence." Sam smiled at her.

"Thanks, I think," he said. "So, you think you're ready for some therapy?" he asked. Haley smiled.

"Thanks, but somehow… I don't think I'll need it," she said. "I think just hearing you talk about it, talk about what you've been through… it helps to know I'm not the first to go through it." Sam really laughed at that.

"Definitely not the first; most certainly not the last," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. His smile faltered suddenly and he gave a sudden gasp of pain as he felt like an electric charge went through him. His eyes suddenly felt like they had those last few seconds back at Stone Gates before Father Dime's demise had knocked him out; he felt like they were being burned out of his head. And at the same time he felt like someone was trying to hack through his skull with a blunt axe. Pain like he'd never felt before, all in his head.

"_You're so beautiful…" she whispered softly, almost seductively. "So fresh… so…" "You're under Alvira's spell now." She was straddling him now, looking down at him where he lay. "What do you want me for?" he asked, more than a little uncomfortable with her trailing her finger along his chest. She took hold of his head with both hands so he'd stop moving, holding him completely still. _

Sam gave a grunt of pain, not sure where he was, all his senses filled with the jumble of visions assaulting his mind.

"_You're fighting her… don't fight her, Dean, she'll get angry." She held him by his chin with such strength that Dean had a feeling she could break his neck with that one hand. He tried to prepare himself for it, tried to. That didn't make it any less painful, though, when she sank her fangs into the side of his neck. Then his eyes opened wide and he screamed as she sank in, breaking open the wounds and letting the blood flow freely into Alvira's mouth. __She pulled back earlier than he expected._

He thought he could hear someone calling out to him. Maybe, but he wasn't sure. More images flooded his already overwhelmed mind. He thought he felt blood trickling out of one of his nostrils.

_He was crying, on the verge of hysteria. He couldn't stop it, couldn't stop the tears from coming. "Be quiet!" She hit him again, and he just let his head loll back, leaning against the slab of stone or whatever it was he was tied against, and continued to cry, trying to be quiet, because he couldn't stand any more pain at the hands of the vampire. "She'll make you wish you were quiet."_

His eyes were open but he couldn't see them. He couldn't' see anything around him. He called out Dean's name without realizing it, but everyone else heard him.

"_Don't worry, Dean," Alvira whispered seductively in his ear. "It'll be over soon. She's finished with you now." Dean's eyes widened when he suddenly realized what she meant. Before he could so much as think, he felt blinding pain like nothing he'd felt before, like none of the other feeding sessions he'd had with Alvira. She was going in all the way._

"Dean!" Sam shouted, his eyes going wide. The vision ended, at least physically. But he could still see the blood pouring from the wound in his brother's neck. Those mad, golden eyes of the vampire who was feeding on him. He groaned as he tried to move, his head feeling like someone had thrown a brick or five at it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the pain away. Then he remembered what he'd seen, and all thoughts of pushing the pain away fled from his mind. He just ignored it.

"Where's Dean?" he asked, not really sure who he was asking because his eyes were still closed at that second. He opened them and looked around. He was lying on a hospital bed (_Oh, just great, this is just what I need, _he thought), with doctors and nurses standing around him. Past one of the doctors, he saw Haley, looking a little ashamed. She obviously understood what had happened. Of all the places he could've had an intense vision like that, it had to be a hospital, didn't it?

"Your brother's fine, Sam," said one of the doctor's. "We just had to move him to another ward for the time being." Sam narrowed his eyes at the doctor, and tried to get up. The doctor pushed him back down. "Sam, you just suffered a very violent fit. You need to rest. Now I assure you, your brother's fine…" Sam stopped listening. He was looking over at Haley while the doctor tried to push him back down against his pillows. Haley was shaking her head slowly. He gave her a questioning look.

"Dean," she mouthed, and shook her head again. His eyes got even wider when he realized what she meant.

"I have to go," he said. "I have to help my brother." The doctor shook his head as Sam tried to get up again.

"No, I'm sorry son, you've got to rest," he said. Another doctor tried to help him hold Sam down, because the younger man was six inches taller than both of them. "Nurse, can we get a sedative here?" one of the doctors shouted at one of the nurses. Sam shot a look at Haley, but she shrugged, not knowing what to do. "Sam, you've got to calm yourself down. If you don't, there's a chance you'll-"

"No, I have to get to my brother," he said. He saw the nurse coming back with a needle. "No, don't," he said. He was getting desperate now. "Haley, stop them. Haley! Stop!" he shouted at the nurse when she was a second away from inserting the needle into the drip. As that last word left his lips, he felt as if something had been let loose, like a dam breaking and releasing a tidal wave of water. And that tidal wave erupted in the form of kinetic energy that pulsed out around him like an invisible wall, pushing everybody within six feet of him backwards, throwing the doctors trying to hold him down to the floor and causing a lot more people to fall over as well. Haley was the first to recover, and she was quickly on her feet, running to Sam's side while everyone else tried to recover from the unexpected blow. It was almost as if she _had_ expected it.

She grabbed hold of the needle that was in his arm and connected to the drip. "Ready?" she asked. Sam nodded, closing his eyes, and she pulled. He winced, but knew they didn't have time for him to think about pain.

"Come on, we have to get out of here," he said. Haley nodded, taking his hand and helping him out of the bed. "Grab my clothes," he ordered. Haley nodded, grabbing them from the drawer in the bedside table. "I do not want to run around town dressed in a hospital gown," he said.

"Where's the Impala?" she asked.

"I drove it here. There wasn't enough room in the ambulance for you, me, Dean and the medic, so I had to drive the car," Sam explained. "Now I'm glad that happened. It should be in the parking lot." They could hear the doctors recovering.

"When we're in the car you can explain to me what just happened here," Haley said, looking over her shoulder at the doctors one last time. Then they were gone, out the door and down the hall.

* * *

**A/N: I hope nobody minds me bring Sam's telekinesis in before Nightmare. It's just I've got a storyline for Haley that doesn't include Nightmare (couldn't figure out how to work her into that), but I wanted her to see him do it the first time, and this seemed like the ideal place. In the next chapter, Sam and Haley are going to rescue Dean. I hope. I'm sure all you Dean fans out there hope so too. Or are you too busy with other thoughts of Dean? (Destroys inquiring minds). That last sentence never happened.**


	25. The Vampire's Kiss

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, and Alvira and her family.

Review Replies:

_BridgetLynn_: I know what you mean, that bit was so hard to write. I actually was on the verge of skipping it entirely, or at least changing it to make it less snappy, but I wanted some drama, plus I needed something to happen to pave the way for something in a later chapter.

_Ghostwriter_: Thanks, glad you liked.

Chapter 24 – The Vampire's Kiss

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Dean had slept peacefully considering the circumstances. Which made waking up all the more stressful for him as the ropes around his torso and wrists bit into him anew. He held back a gasp of pain, and quickly did a mental sweep of his body to make sure nothing had fallen off yet. He was relieved to discover someone had pulled his boxers back up. He'd felt a little too exposed when Alvira had left him completely naked.

He hated this. It took a lot for him to hate something, and this was one of those things. He hated being vulnerable, not knowing what was happening, not being able to help himself. He was completely at the mercy of a deranged vampire, and he was completely on his own. He tried not to feel betrayed, tried to think that Sam was on his way, would get there before Alvira came again. But there was just not enough left in him to hope. Where had hope gotten him so far?

Absolutely nowhere, that's where. If he was going to get out of this, he'd have to rely on himself to do it, that's what his Dad would say.

Except he knew he wasn't getting out of this on his own. For all her mental instability, Alvira was a master at tying knots. Unless someone untied him or he miraculously found something to cut through the ropes around his wrists with, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Come on, Sammy…" he whispered, his voice hoarse from all the screaming he'd been doing over the last twenty-four hours or so. "Don't let me down." He closed his eyes, feeling weak, probably from severe blood loss. He was actually surprised he was conscious, with Alvira almost sucking him dry.

He tried to take his mind off of that, tried to think of things that made him happy. But it seemed like every time he came close to it, thoughts of Sam and his Dad and his Mum, and even of Haley, it seemed like the darkness around him intervened, and he was brought back to memories of the last few hours, of Alvira as she caressed his body, of her leaning down and kissing him, and her fangs digging into his neck.

His back stiffened against the stone slab when he heard the sound of a door open somewhere outside his line of sight.

"Is he ready for more?" Alvira cooed. "Alvira's come out to play." She stepped slowly toward him; Dean thought he heard something brushing along the ground. He saw that that something was a long white dress that was brushing along the stone floor behind Alvira. "Play with her Dean," she whispered, leaning down and lying on top of him, their faces inches apart. "Play with her," she repeated, leaning forward and kissing him lightly on the lips, resting a hand beneath his head. He thought maybe she was taking pity on him, then her fingers tightened around several locks of his dirty blond hair, holding his head completely still as the kiss became deeper, rougher, more passionate. He winced but didn't say anything; as long as she was happy to lay there making out with him, she wasn't going to decide it was time for dessert.

_Please hurry up, Sammy, _he thought, eyes closing as Alvira continued to kiss him.

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"Now, what the hell happened in there?" Haley asked as Sam drove the Impala out of the hospital parking lot, still dressed in his hospital gown.

"I- I don't know… I- I was angry, I was desperate, and I… I saw Dean being… killed, by a vampire… in my vision, and I… I just wanted to help him." Sam said. "It was like, I don't know, like it just came out of me, like a punch. You know, like a freak adrenaline thing," he tried to explain. "I wanted so badly to get out of there, for them to leave me alone so I could help Dean… and then they just… moved." He stared at the road in front of him, driving as fast as was legally possible.

"What else did you see… in your vision I mean?" Haley questioned.

"I-I don't know. Lot's of images. Lots of jumbled up images, but Dean was in all of them, and they were all in the same place," he said. "I think… I think she was hurting him," he said.

"Who?" Haley asked. Sam glanced at her for a split second, then turned back to the road.

"The vampire that was with him," he said. "She told him not to worry. That it would be over soon." He shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think she meant she was going to let him go."

"Do you have any idea where it was happening?" Haley asked. Sam shook his head.

"No. Dammit, what good is seeing him if I can't help him!" he snapped.

"Sam, calm down," Haley said. "Dean will kill you if you lose it and crash his car."

"Presuming we find him before the vampire kills _him,_" Sam said. He sighed. "I'm sorry, I just get a little… upset, when someone tries to kill my brother."

"No problem," Haley said. "I understand."

"Do you?" Sam asked.

Haley nodded. "More than you know."

"Will I ever know?" Sam asked, suddenly realizing he didn't know where he was driving them.

"Maybe," Haley said with a small smile. Sam grinned, glancing at Haley again.

Sam glanced at his watch. "Half-past four in the morning?" he said disbelievingly. "It was eight o'clock in the morning last time I checked."

"Yeah… well…" Haley seemed to be looking for the right words to say. "When you had the vision, it… it must've been really intense because, well, your nose was bleeding, and your eyes, they were wide as saucers, and you kept muttering under your breath. And then you just stopped. The doctor thought maybe you'd gone into a coma or something. That was yesterday," she said.

Sam blinked. "I'm sorry… are you saying that Dean's been with those vampires for nearly a day?" he asked, turning to look at her. She nodded, a somewhat guilty look on her face. "Just when were you planning on telling me this?"

"Well, we were in such a hurry to get out of the hospital, I just didn't… I don't know, I forgot."

"You forgot?" Sam asked sceptically. "You forgot to mention that I passed out, and that my brother had been the vampire's prisoner for over twelve hours?"

"I'm sorry, okay, I wasn't thinking too good," Haley said. "I was still reeling from all those intense emotions you were throwing about along with the doctors and nurses," she said. Sam took a deep breath. Okay, he could accept that. She was empathic, he had to make allowances for when he got overly emotional.

"Is there anything else you need to mention?" he asked, keeping his voice steady. Haley shook her head. "Okay, good. Now, I was thinking since we- Argh!" He gave a small gasp of pain, one hand letting go of the steering wheel and going up to massage his forehead.

"Sam, you okay?" Haley asked. Sam nodded, his eyes narrowed down to slits. Somehow, he managed to guide the car to the side of the road. Then with another gasp of pain, he let go of the wheel completely, both hands holding his temples as a blinding light filled his vision.

_He pushed the mausoleum door open, shining the torch inside… The bottom of the casket slowly slid back into the floor, just like he knew it would… He glanced down the dark stairs beneath the casket, and then jumped down, throwing caution to the wind as a scream reached his ears._

Sam slammed his head against the back of his seat, eyes wide with surprise and pain. Slowly, the pain receded, and his vision returned. He looked around. He was still in the car, with the early morning darkness still outside.

"Is it still today?" he asked. Haley smiled, nodding.

"Still today," she confirmed. He breathed a sigh of relief. "What did you see?" she asked. Sam blinked, thinking. And then he remembered.

"The mausoleum at the cemetery," he said. "I think there's a passage there that'll take us to Dean," he said. He put the car in gear, turned the ignition, and roared back onto the road, not waiting to see if anyone was coming. Haley was thrown back into her seat, not expecting the sudden increase in speed.

"Warn me next time!" she shouted at him. Sam ignored her. He knew where his brother was. And he knew what would happen if he didn't get there in time to save him.

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Dean breathed a small sigh of relief when she finally pulled away from him, releasing him from her. She smiled down at him, a horrifying attraction evident on her face as she looked down at him. "So beautiful… so handsome." Dean let the tears flow silently down his cheeks. He was literally cold to the bone, his whole body felt like it had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler, and he'd just endured another session of being raped by Alvira.

The vampire laid a finger on his cheek, catching a couple of tears on it. She brought her finger to her mouth, and licked the tip of it, as if tasting the tears. "Mm, so sweet." She smiled. "She wants to enjoy her meal," she said absently, looking in a direction Dean couldn't in his position. Then faster than Dean could see, her hand slashed down, and he gave a short scream as claw-sharp fingernails cut across the two small holes in his neck, leaving four thin bloody trails over the top of them.

"So much noise, they all scream… none of them understand." Alvira got up off of Dean, seeming to glide like a ghost in her floor length dress. Dean struggled to follow her with his eyes, but she walked right around behind him, and he lost sight of her. "He wouldn't be quiet. None of them were. She had to make them be quiet so she could enjoy."

"What-?" Dean began, and his voice was cut off as a piece of cloth was shoved roughly into his mouth. That got him shouting at her, or trying to shout at her. She walked back around, smiling down at the panicked look in his eyes. She knelt in front of him, and leaned forward.

"Don't worry, Dean," Alvira whispered seductively in his ear. "It'll be over soon. She's finished with you now." Dean's eyes widened when he suddenly realized what she meant. Before he could so much as think, he felt blinding pain like nothing he'd felt before, like none of the other feeding sessions he'd had with Alvira. She was going in all the way.

He tried to scream, but the gag had had Alvira's desired affect, keeping him more or less quiet as she let the blood flow freely from the wound into her mouth.

Finally she pulled away. Dean lay limply, barely breathing, barely able to think. But he saw her. He couldn't not see her. She was kneeling down right in front of his face.

"It's time for the end, Dean," she said. "Time for you to feel her." He watched as she bared her fang, her upper jaw coming forward slightly, and then her canines slashing two thin splits into her lower lip. And for a split second, she seemed almost sane. "Be mine forever, Dean." Over the course of barely a second she'd pulled out the gag and then leaned forward and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Dean's eyes widened when he realized she'd never intended to kill him. At least, not in the way he'd thought. And there was nothing he could do to stop her as the vampire kissed him and let her blood slowly dribble from her split lip into his mouth.

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Sam flicked the torch on, and then glanced back at Haley. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded, raising her stake. They had no idea how large the passageway was, so they decided it wouldn't be safe to take guns down. "Okay, let's do this." He pushed the mausoleum door open, shining the torch inside, looking around.

"Anything?" Haley whispered.

"An abnormally large casket in the center, and lots more along the walls," Sam said, creeping into the mausoleum. "I think we're at the right place." He walked over to the casket, and after a lot of straining and some help from Haley, they managed to lift the lid off, dropping it with a louder-than-necessary _thud_ onto the concrete floor.

"Now what do we do?" Haley asked, staring down into the empty casket. "What was in your vision?"

"I don't know, it just sort of moved on its own," Sam said.

"On its own? Are you sure nothing was done to make it move?" Haley asked. Sam shrugged.

"Maybe," he said, looking around. "Maybe it's like one of those secret passageways you see on TV sometimes." He looked around, trying to find anything that might cause the sudden movement of the bottom of the casket.

"Found something," Haley said. Sam walked over, shining the torch on the loose brick Haley had found in the wall. "Should I…?" Haley trailed off. Sam nodded before turning back to the casket, walking to it.

He heard Haley push the brick back into place in the wall. He glanced over. The bottom of the casket slowly slid back into the floor, just like he knew it would. He smiled, grateful for his visions, and turned and nodded to Haley. The two of them walked over to the casket, standing on either side of it. It had finished moving, and Sam looked up at Haley before looking back down. He glanced down the dark stairs beneath the casket, and then jumped down, throwing caution to the wind as a scream reached his ears.

"Dean!" he shouted, half running, half stumbling down the stairs, torch in one hand and stake held tightly in the other. The first vampire he came across was a pile of ashes before it really knew what had happened. The second one fell victim to Haley's swift feet and then joined its 'brother' as a pile of ash. "Dean!" Sam shouted again as he ran. They came to a fork in the passage. Sam ran down the left, Haley took the right without stopping to think of the dangers of splitting up. All that mattered to them right then was finding Dean before Sam's vision came true.

Sam saw someone up ahead, saw the elongated canines, and thrust the stake forward, turning another vampire into a pile of ashes. Or he thought it did, he didn't stop to make sure. He just kept running.

The light from the torch fell on a door. He stopped right in front of it, realizing at the last second it was stone and that he wouldn't be able to break it down. So he held the torch between his knees while he fumbled around along the door for a handle of some sort to open it with. He gave a cry of frustration when he found none. He pushed against it with his shoulder, but it didn't do much. He took a step back, glaring at the door.

"Move!" he shouted at it. "Come on, move! You've done it before!" He was shouting at himself. "Move, dammit, move! What good are you if you can't do this to save your own brother!" He didn't feel a thing. Nothing moved. He was completely on his own. He gave another cry of frustration and began kicking at the door. "Come on, come on!" His eyes stung with tears because he was angry and frustrated with himself. He kept kicking at the door.

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Dean wasn't sure how much he'd swallowed, but he was doing his best not to. It was a slow process, there wasn't much blood coming into his mouth, for which he was thankful, but he didn't know how much had to go down before… it happened. He couldn't imagine that, couldn't bear to think about it. If it happened, well, he just had to hope Sam would be strong enough to do what needed to be done.

_But he isn't,_ Dean thought. _Just like I wouldn't be if the roles were reversed._ He couldn't bring himself to kill his own brother no matter what he'd been turned into. And so help him, he'd defend his brother from a thousand vampire hunters if he had to, even if Sam did bite him in the neck afterwards.

Except Sam wasn't the one getting the vampire's kiss. He was.

Alvira suddenly pulled away as the door groaned open. Dean slumped back, eyes drooping closed. It was time to sleep. He felt so tired.

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Sam was relieved he'd stopped his mad attempt at beating the door down long enough to see the loose brick in the floor, or he might've kept beating at the door until he collapsed from exhaustion. Luckily, he'd pulled back for a minute, and tripped over the brick. After that it didn't take much thinking to figure out what it meant, and he'd pushed the brick back into the floor, opening the door.

There was a woman waiting for him inside, standing right in front of the door. She stared at him, and for a fleeting moment he was reminded of the haunting gaze of Constance Welsh, the woman in white.

"He belongs to Alvira," she said. "But she can take another." She bared her fangs, running at Sam with unnatural speed. But that unnatural speed had one downside. She had no time to stop as Sam brought the stake up, and ran right onto it.

It plunged into her chest and punctured her heart. She stared at him, wide eyed, not quite realizing what had just happened. And then, with one last scream, she vanished in a shower of ashes. Almost anticlimactic in a way.

Sam stood there, completely stunned, for a moment or two. Then his eyes fell on his brother.

"Dean!" he cried, running to his brother. He took in the rope burns, and pale skin, the slash marks and the fang holes all in about two seconds and for another second was indecisive on where to start. Then he reached beneath the diagonal slab of stone and quickly set to work untying his brother's hands. He had to give the vampire one thing: she was an expert at tying knots. But he quickly found the solution, and released his brother's hands, then untied his legs and torso as well, gently moving him to lay flat on the floor.

The next thing he did was take off his jacket and laid it over his brother, who he'd realized was absolutely freezing. And no surprise, considering he'd been underground for over a day, all-but naked, and unable to move around to warm up.

That was when he thought to check for a pulse. It took a few seconds, but he did get one. But it was far too weak to mean very much.

He looked worriedly down at his brother. The fact that the wound in his neck was wide open and no blood was coming out was more then enough to make him panic, but the fact that his lips were turning blue, and that he was barely breathing almost drove Sam over the edge.

Luckily, Haley chose that exact moment to find her way back to Sam.

"Dean," she gasped, running to Sam's side. Sam was just staring down at his brother. Haley glanced at Sam, and then back down at Dean, checking his pulse. "Dammit, he's not going to last long enough for an ambulance." She noticed the trickles of blood near his lips. "Oh, shit!" she said, rolling him onto his side, and wincing. "Oh, god, Dean, I'm so sorry I have to do this," she said. Sam seemed to come out of his stupor.

"Do what?" he asked. Haley gave him a somewhat nervous glance.

"The vampire… she made him drink her blood," she said. "I don't know how much he got, but we can't take the chance it was enough." She glanced down at Dean's unmoving form. "I have to get him to cough up the blood." Sam gasped, blinking rapidly.

"That's… oh, okay, do it," he said, grimacing at the thought of what Haley was about to do to Dean. Haley didn't seem too thrilled about it herself.

"I just hope he's strong enough to do it," she said. Sam glanced at her.

"And if he isn't?" he asked.

"Well… then I'm about to speed up the vampirification process," she said. Sam's eyes widened, and he seemed a lot less reluctant to let her do what she planned. Then he nodded.

"You'd better… uh, hurry up," he said. Haley nodded, wincing slightly as she pried Dean's mouth open, and delicately reached in, the tip of her finger brushing against the back of his throat fleetingly. He started coughing.

"Oh, don't make me do it again," she said. Alas, he coughed but nothing came up. "Oh, what sick mind goes to bed at night and dreams up this horror I live with?" she grumbled, reaching in a second time, forgetting to be more than delicate. She yelped and pulled her hand back quickly as he choked and coughed and his teeth snapped down on her fingers. A moment later he was retching and his body started to convulse.

"Get him on his hands and knees," Haley ordered, taking Dean under one arm, and waiting for Sam to take the other. They lifted him so that he was kneeling, leaning him forward a bit so that when he started vomiting, it was the floor that got soaked in it and not Dean.

Finally it ended. Haley helped Sam lift Dean to his feet, though Dean was by far in no condition to walk, or even stand, on his own. So Sam sort of carried him. Haley was both pleased and grossed out when she saw trails of blood through the disgusting contents of Dean's stomach.

"We won't make it," Sam said. Haley looked up. Sam was sitting, his brother lying limply in his arms. "He's slipping away, Haley. We'd never even make it to the car to call the ambulance. He'll be dead before we can make it out of the mausoleum."

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A/N: Yeah, I know, I'm evil. What a place to end it, huh? Not even saying if they even have a chance to save him. How many of you think I'm going to kill him? How many of you think I'm not capable of doing it? How many of you think I won't do it because I don't want all his fans to come beat down my door?


	26. A Brother's Love

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley.

Author's Note: So, how many of you lit the torches and sharpened your pitchforks while I was gone? Not too many I hope. Anyway, I just watched Dead Man's Blood, and realized how different these vampires are to the ones from Supernatural. And then I thought, who cares, it's not like I'll be doing that episode in this story.

And as always, a big thankyou to chase for being my beta reader, I'm sure the help you've given me has made my readers a lot happier with the chapters.

Chapter 25 – A Brother's Love

_Wildcat023_: As you can see, I have now done that. And I'm glad you understand that, lol, I'll try and be more specific if I ever do something like that again.

_Ghostwriter_: Oh, you think I am not capable of murdering Dean? Well, in truth, I may be capable of it. You'll have to read on and find out. And thanks for saying I'm an amazing writer.

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Dean's breathing was becoming more and more ragged. Sam's eyes stung with tears, and he looked over at Haley with a pleading look in his eyes. "You can save him. You did it before. You brought me back." The look on his face was so hopeful, so innocent, it broke Haley's heart to shake her head slowly. The crest-fallen look on his face brought tears to her eyes. 

"It doesn't work like that, Sam," she said. "I can't just turn it on and off. And even if I could, I had your mother's love back in Lawrence. That's what brought you back, not me. I was just the conduit. What do I have here to channel?" Sam looked at her.

"Haley, he's dying!" he said desperately. "You can help him. I know you can... Please," he begged. Haley looked at Sam, then Dean, then back to Sam. She could feel it, like she'd felt back at the house. Love, so much like his mother's love and yet different because they were brothers. Love had always seemed like one thing to Haley, but since she'd discovered her empathic abilities she'd found a whole rainbow of different types of love, and this was just another of them.

She took Dean's head in her hands, and felt for him as Sam did. A brother she could not lose, that she could not live without. She needed him to protect her, to be by her side, to do all the things she knew she couldn't. Sam stood back, wonder in his eyes.

Haley's eyes suddenly went wide, and her head snapped back. "No, please… stop," she whispered. "Not again… Please, no more." She began sobbing. She gasped, and Sam saw something, like a burn, slowly growing across the side of her neck. She gasped in pain, her body convulsing, trying to reject the pain it was pulling out of Dean. Just as she'd drained Sam of his anger that afternoon, she was now trying to drain Dean of his pain, of his injuries. And it was obviously more than Haley, with her abilities so limited, could handle. She wasn't just feeling the pain, the injuries. She was tapping into the memories of his emotions, like she had done back in the hospital at Stone Gates to destroy Heartsbane.

She let out another gasp, and Sam let himself feel the love for his brother like he had when he was younger, trying to remember the times when that brotherly love had been at its strongest to strengthen the love that Haley was channeling. When he was six, Dean had stayed up with him when he'd gotten a bad case of the cold and couldn't get to sleep. He'd stayed up almost all night to comfort Sam, even after Sam had gone to sleep, he was sure Dean had stayed awake, just in case Sam woke up again.

And when he was nine, when he'd been afraid of that thing in his closet. Dean had held him close and whispered words of comfort while he'd cried seemingly endless streams of tears. Even if that situation hadn't turned out as good as he would've liked, the feelings were there, and that was what Haley needed. In front of him, he saw Haley straining under the pressure of bringing Dean back to a state that could be called life. She wasn't just restoring breath to him like she had to Sam. She had to deal with the neck wound, the ropes burns, the near-hypothermia; large obstacles she had to guide Dean back around.

When he was eleven, and his Dad had gotten drunk after a close encounter with the demon that had seemed so much like the one that had taken his Mum, and yet had turned out not to be. Sam had made the mistake of being in the living room watching TV when his Dad had stumbled in late, and after a lot of shouting, had received a nasty bruise from a clumsy yet none the less strong punch from his Dad. He'd stumbled up the stairs to the bedroom he'd been sharing with Dean, who was (at that time still in school) doing his homework. Dean had helped Sam clean up the bruise, and then he'd let Sam sleep in his bed to keep away the nightmares that would surely come to the horrified eleven-year-old.

And what Dean had done for him when he'd seen that woman get torn apart by the demon? He'd given up a whole night's sleep to help his brother get over his fear of using the weapon he'd failed to use when it mattered. Sam felt a wave of gratitude well up inside him. Gratitude and love, because no matter how hard life seemed, no matter what the situation, he could always rely on Dean to be there for him. Because that was what big brothers did.

"And you're going to keep doing it," Haley and Sam said at the same time. Haley seemed a great deal calmer, which surprised Sam. He'd been feeling a lot over the past few minutes, and so far, every time Haley had been around emotions that intense, she'd become awfully stressed and irritable. And yet now…

"Sam…" Haley's voice was strained. "Get out… call the ambulance…" She wouldn't break her hold on Dean's head. "Got him… can't hold him…" she managed. There were tears running down her cheeks, and her body was starting to quiver and shake. Sam all but leapt out of the door, running and stumbling down the passage, pulling his mobile out of his pocket as he ran and hoping desperately that he wouldn't have to run all the way out to get service on the phone.

* * *

It would be so nice if he could just sleep. It beckoned to him, begged him to give in. He thought maybe he felt something, at the back of his throat. Nothing seemed to happen though, but he suddenly had the feeling of being a lot lighter. And he felt warmer. 

And he felt scared. He didn't want to go back, though he could feel something calling to him just as strongly as the sleep was. Maybe more strongly. But he was still scared.

He suddenly felt warmth like he had never felt before. Like the sun's heat without the burn. It flared up inside him like an explosion, and shot through his body in a matter of seconds, pushing back the cold and the fear, leaving only the loving warmth. He felt as though someone was holding onto him.

"_Be mine forever, Dean._"

"No, Alvira." Dean turned in his state of disembodiment and the warmth and the light shattered. She was reaching out toward him, ready to take him once and for all.

"_Dean,_" Alvira whispered. "_Can you hear me? Dean?_" It wasn't her voice. It wasn't even a woman's voice. Dean suddenly felt strange. He wasn't floating like he had been. He felt… different… held down…

"Dean, can you here me?" Dean opened his eyes a crack, not able to do much more than that. Who was making all that noise? Someone was standing over him. His body stiffened and he whimpered, memories of Alvira still fresh in his mind. He closed his eyes again, rolling onto his side so the person standing over him wasn't looking at his face.

His eyes snapped open again. He rolled over. Did that mean…?

"Dean, it's me, what's wrong?"

"Sammy?" Dean whispered, not willing to believe it was his brother. He rolled over onto his back again, staring up at his brother's worried gaze.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, smiling sadly down at his brother. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I got plowed by an eighteen-wheeler," he said. "Don't tell me, I actually did?" he asked, remembering the story Sam had told the doctor last time.

"No, actually, this time, we're just as baffled by the cause of your injuries as the doctors are," Sam explained. "Haley and I left the hospital without signing ourselves out, drove aimlessly around at only fifty-percent health, and then found you unconscious in the mausoleum. Whoever had taken you from the hospital, and stabbed you in the neck with what the doctors are saying looks like a barbeque fork, was gone." He frowned. "They say they mustn't have done it to you at the mausoleum because there's no blood on the floor."

Haley came running into the room. "Get me away from them," she whispered, walking around to the far side of the bed, and sitting down. "Oh, hi, Dean, glad you're awake, hide me." She sighed, kneeling down on the other side of the bed.

Dean closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and just listening to what the other two were saying.

"Whoa, whoa, what's the problem?" Sam said, sounding like he was suppressing a laugh.

"There's a new mother and father out in the waiting room and every time they come near me I want to hug someone," was Haley's answer. "Happiness, I can deal with. Love, I can deal with. Joy, I can deal with. But not when all three of them are mixed in together, they make me feel giddy, and light headed and I-" Dean's eyes snapped open as he felt someone press their lips against his. He panicked for a moment, but found his limbs were too exhausted to do anything.

His gratitude to his brother became eternal when Sam reached over and pulled Haley off of him.

"-do crazy things," Haley finished. "How did I-" She turned an accusing look at Sam. "You!" she said in an accusatory tone. "What right do you have to be joyous and happy and loving?" she demanded, as if the fact that Dean had just narrowly escaped death was not enough reason for Sam to feel that way. "You're killing me over here," she complained. Sam just laughed. Dean smiled, too tired to laugh. Haley laughed, though Dean had a feeling she found the situation anything but funny, and was only laughing because Sam was and she was feeling his amusement. "Oh, you think this is funny do you?" Haley asked. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around Sam's waist, her arms around his neck, and planted a passionate kiss on his lips.

He was obviously too much in shock by what she was doing to do anything more than steady himself after she nearly knocked him over (she'd had no choice – even on tiptoe, she wouldn't have been able to reach his lips). After nearly twenty seconds, she dropped back down onto the floor, wiped her lips, and turned away, leaving Sam with a dumbstruck, slightly confused look on his face. Dean's smile broadened.

"Now _that _was funny," he said. His voice was hoarse and it hurt his throat to speak, but he couldn't help himself. Sam blinked coming out of his state of shock and turning back to his brother.

"So, are you really okay?" he asked. "Do you feel any pain? I can get you some water if you like. Or the doctor, do you want me to get the doctor?" Dean gave an indignant grunt.

"Sam, I'm twenty-six. _Twenty_-six, not six. I don't need you mothering me," he said. Or tried to. His attempt at a witty remark was ruined by his raw throat. "I'll be…" He gave a small cough. "I'll be fine once I rest up." But in truth he felt like he'd been through hell and back.

"Okay, well, you just… you just rest then," Sam said, nodding. "And I'll… I'll be waiting right here if you need anything." Dean would never admit it, but it was reassuring to have his brother so close. He felt safe again, with his brother and his friend. He closed his eyes, and almost immediately fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know, short chapter. I wanted to end it there because, one, I didn't know what else to write, and two, this is like a transitional chapter. Now, I'm going to take a break from writing (whether it's a week, a couple of days, or just a few hours, your guess is as good as mine). Keep up all those lovely reviews, and the break may just be postponed a few weeks.**


	27. The Past is Not Forgotten

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Elise and the town of Blackwood. But for some reason, Blackwood showed up in Word's spell check dictionary, so if Blackwood is a real place, I do not own it, but this place is probably nothing like it.

Author's Note: Finally, some of Haley's secrets are going to come out in the open. And Haley's about to come face-to-face with someone she thought she'd never see.

And as always, a big thankyou to Chase for beta-ing this story.

Review Answers: What's this? Only one review to answer? Well that's never happened before. Has it?

_BridgetLynn_: Correct, she is in no way related to them. The answer to Haley's connection to them is revealed (at least in part) in this chapter. Don't worry, break's over, writing again. Maybe not as non-stop as before, I think I'm starting to feel the backlash of it again.

Chapter 26 – The Past is Not Forgotten

* * *

Dean glanced at the large sign as they drove past it. It read 'Welcome to Blackwood' in big gold letters against a black board of wood. He remembered this place. It was one of the darker parts in his history of hunting. One that not even his father knew about. 

Which was why he was so surprised when they'd received a text message from his Dad with coordinates (the first since he'd sent them to the Roosevelt Asylum) that led them to this town. Dean had made sure there was nothing left here before he'd left. Nothing supernatural that is. Of course, that didn't really mean anything. How many years had passed? Six? Seven? Something like that. A lot could change in seven years.

"Something wrong, Dean?" Sam asked. He looked over his shoulder. "And Haley?" he asked. Both of them had gone awkwardly quiet. Sam shook his head, leaning back in his seat as Dean kept driving. To everyone's relief, Dean had made a full recovery after a few days of rest, recuperation, and taking full advantage of the fact that once he was taken back to the motel, he was restricted to his bed for another two-to-three days. So Haley and Sam had spent three days waiting on him hand and foot, and they didn't need an empath to know Dean was enjoying ordering them around. The pleased look on his face gave it away.

But the pleased look was better than the fear-stricken look he kept waking up with at night. Haley and Sam had actually started taking shifts so that one of them could be there for the older hunter when he woke up and expected to be alone.

Thankfully, the dreams of his treatment at the hands of Alvira were slowly decreasing as time went by. It had been just over a week since they'd put that town in their rear view mirror, and about two days since they'd received the coordinates.

"Are you sure these are the coordinates?" Haley asked, leaning forward. Sam nodded.

"About as sure as I was five minutes ago when you asked me," he said. "I'm sorry, am I missing something, you two don't seem awfully enthusiastic to be here," he said.

"I haven't said anything," Dean said defensively.

"No, but a blind ninety-year-old who never got his driver's licence could have gotten us here faster than you did," Sam said. Dean gave himself a shake.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just still a little…" He didn't finish. He felt guilty for using that as an excuse, but this was one secret Sam would never find out if he could help it. And if he had to lie and say he was still suffering from his day and night with the queen of dementia, then that was what he was going to do.

"Okay, understandable," Sam said, "and I'm sorry I have to say this, especially since it makes me sound too much like Dad, but you're going to have to get over it soon. We're going to need you for this, and we're going to need all of you." Dean glanced over at his brother for a second, and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I'll be fine, just one more night's rest, I should be ready." He saw Sam looking a little apprehensive. "I'll be fine, don't worry," he said. But it was in Sam's nature to worry, and Dean knew nothing he said was going to change that.

Haley, however, did not look like she was going to be fine. In fact, "Haley, if you're going to throw up, then wind down the window and…" he stopped before he could finish that sentence. "No, on second thought, if you're going to throw up, let me know and I'll drop you off here," he said. He grinned to show Haley he was kidding about the dropping off part. She returned the smile, but still looked more than a little off colour.

"We'll stop at the nearest motel," Dean said decisively. Sam shot him a questioning look, and he responded by nodding over his shoulder. Sam glanced into the back and saw Haley with her eyes squeezed shut, muttering under her breath, shaking her head every so often. He shot another questioning look at Dean, who shrugged and kept driving.

* * *

The first motel they arrived at turned out to be… not at all what they expected. They got a three bed room, with a bathroom, a small kitchen, a reasonably large TV, a couch, a table, chairs, and basically anything else necessary to make a small motel room seem almost like home. If any of them had had a home, that is. 

"Who wants the bed nearest the door?" Dean asked. Sam exchanged a look with Haley.

"I will," she said. At the same time, Sam walked over and claimed the one furthest from the door, putting Dean in between them. Until they were absolutely sure his older brother was over his experience, they were going to make sure he always had one of them there for him when he needed help. Sam didn't just want to do it because he cared about his brother. He was doing it because of all the times Dean had done it for him.

From day one, Dean had always taken care of him, always made sure Sam was happy. Like when Sam had been twelve, and he and Dean had been practicing their bow-and-arrow skills. Sam had miscalculated his aim, and accidentally shot an arrow through the closed window of his Dad's car and imbedded it in the seat. When his Dad had found the arrow, he'd been absolutely furious, but Dean had taken the blame without a second thought, telling their Dad (with what seemed like complete honesty) that it was his arrow.

And Dean had never brought that up, never reminded Sam of all the things he'd done, all the blame he'd taken. He hadn't done it because he was Sam's big brother and it was his job. He'd done it because he wanted his baby brother to be happy.

And now it was Sam's turn. Dean had never asked for any favours, never acted like Sam owed him anything, but deep down, Sam always felt like he did. He owed Dean so much, for giving him as normal a childhood as he could.

"What time is it?" Dean asked. They'd crossed god-knows how many time zones in the last month or so it wasn't funny. Sam glanced at his watch.

"Almost six-thirty," he said.

"Okay, I'm gonna go out and get us some dinner," Dean said. "Anything in particular?" he asked.

"Anything but McDonalds," Haley said immediately. "I've had so much McDonalds since I hooked up with you two that I…" She obviously didn't know how to finish that sentence, so she just made a few frustrated waves of her arm, and then went and sat on her bed, pulling off her boots.

"Okay, and you Sam?" Dean asked.

"Anything's fine," was the answer. Sam had already taken out his laptop. "I'll start searching for anything that could make Dad send us here." Dean eyed the laptop for a second, then nodded, and headed for the door. At the last second, Haley got up off her bed; grabbing her boots and pulling them back on as she went.

"Wait, I'm coming with you," she said. Sam shook his head, smiling after the two of them as they began arguing over who was going to drive. Haley would probably win. She had some kind of scary power over the two of them that somehow helped her get her way when she wanted it to.

Sam turned his attention to the laptop, going in search of anything that might point him in the direction of what he was looking for.

* * *

"A supermarket?" Haley asked sceptically. "We're getting dinner from a supermarket?" She looked over at Dean. Somehow, he had managed to win their argument, so he was sitting triumphantly in the driver's seat of his own car while Haley continued to stare sceptically out at the supermarket. 

"Well, we'll just cook it ourselves," Dean said. "I assume you know how to cook?" he asked, a grin on his face. Haley shot him a look halfway between annoyance and amusement.

"I'd tell you what happens when you assume," she said, "but you're already an ass, so it doesn't matter." Dean laughed.

"Takes one to know one," he said.

"Wow, that was original," Haley said, chuckling.

"Just get out of the car. Sam'll be waiting back at the motel wondering if his handsome brother has crashed the car and died," Dean said, opening his door and climbing out.

Dean glanced at the supermarket. The last time he'd been here, he had been nineteen. Young, and stupid. He'd convinced his Dad he could handle this job on his own. He sighed. It had been a mistake that had cost him more than an innocent life.

"Dean? Earth to Dean?" Haley waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Hey, look, a naked lady," she said. She frowned when that got no reaction from him. "I'm gonna crash the Impala," she said. Dean blinked.

"What!" he demanded, turning on her.

"Bad memory?" she asked.

"Huh?" He shook his head. "What about the car?" he asked. Haley rolled her eyes.

"I had to get your attention somehow," she said, her smile almost pitying. "I'm getting a lot of apprehension coming my way. Wanna talk about it?" Dean looked at her for a minute.

"It's nothing you could help with," he said. They continued into the supermarket in silence. Dean selected what they'd have for dinner: two freezer pizzas. Haley seemed to accept that choice, and she and Dean chose one pizza each, and took them to the check-out to pay for them.

They were just about to leave when Haley came to an abrupt stop in front of Dean, causing him to almost crash into her. He stopped himself just in time, and then quickly looked in the direction Haley was looking. A woman, in her very late thirties or early forties, Dean guessed, was just finishing paying for her groceries. She had long blond hair, and dark-brown-nearly-black eyes. She looked up from her groceries for a split second, and she seemed to notice Haley staring at her.

When the woman had finished paying, she walked over.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asked. Haley quickly shook her head.

"No, I don't think you do," Haley said. "Sorry, I just thought you were… yeah, sorry." And without another word, she stepped around the woman and sprinted out of the supermarket. Dean, more than a little confused, looked at the woman, who seemed as confused as he was, and then stepped around her to go after Haley.

He saw Haley leaning against the hood of the Impala. She didn't look up as he approached. She just stared down. When he came up to her, he saw there was a photo on the hood of the car. Haley must've heard him (or felt his confusion) because she quickly snatched up the photo and tucked it into a pocket of her pants before he could get a good look at it.

"What was that about?" Dean asked.

"Nothing, it was… nothing, I… I made a mistake," Haley said, walking around to the passenger side of the car. Dean was right behind her, and he pushed the door closed before she could get a good grip on it.

"I think that was a little more than a mistake," he said. "You were staring at that woman like you'd seen a ghost." Haley looked at him, or glared at him might have been more appropriate. Then she sighed, leaning back with a look of resignation on her face.

"That woman in there… I think… I'm almost positive…" She sighed again. "I think she may be my mother."

* * *

Sam looked at the computer screen, and was completely convinced his Dad had made a mistake with the coordinates. If anything had happened in the past two-hundred years anywhere in Blackwood, no one was talking about it anywhere on the internet. Either it was a squeaky-clean town and his Dad had done the seemingly impossible and made a mistake with his coordinates, or else someone was covering up something. 

He looked up as the door opened. Dean and Haley walked in, Dean carrying the bag that hopefully contained his dinner. "Hey, guys," he said, turning back to his laptop. "See anything strange?"

"Oh, you know, nothing out of the ordinary," Dean said. "Went to the supermarket, bought some pizzas, Haley thinks she met her birth mother on the way out." Sam looked up from his computer screen.

"Come again?" he said.

"Apparently, Haley was given to a foster family when she was younger," Dean said.

"Hello, blabber-mouth, I can tell my own story," Haley said. Dean's mouth snapped shut. "Thank you." She turned back to Sam. "Younger is an understatement. I was barely a month old." Sam gaped. "Yeah, I never really understood why she would have done it," she said. "But that isn't the point. I loved my family, they were great, especially… especially my sister, after my parents died," she said. "I got a photo of my birth mother. My foster parents gave it to me the day they told me they weren't my real parents. When I was… oh, let me think… six, or was it five?" She shook her head. "But we're straying from the point. The point is… I'm… I think that was her… I'm so sure." She sighed. "I think," she added.

"Well, we might as well look into it," Sam said. "We're not going to be finding anything else any time soon."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"I mean, aside from a young woman disappearing a few years ago- and all her things vanished with her, so people think she just made a runner- there is absolutely nothing in this place," Sam said, closing down his laptop. "But first – dinner. I am starving." Dean nodded, taking out the two pizzas.

* * *

Dinner passed in uncomfortable silence. No one really knew what to talk about. 

Sam was still trying to digest the information he'd learned about Haley. Haley was trying to register the fact that she may have found her mother, after twelve long years of childhood wishing that her mother would one day come and take her back. But that day had never come. Dean was just silent because he never knew what to say when something this big came out in the open.

Since there was nothing else to do, they all went to bed reasonably early. Or so it looked. Unbeknownst to Dean, Haley exchanged a look with Sam, who nodded, meaning he was going to take first watch on the chance Dean had another nightmare.

So as soon as he was sure Dean had fallen asleep and wasn't just pretending, Sam got out a book, and began to read it by torchlight, propping the torch up against his shoulder. At about half-past eleven, he started to yawn, and by midnight, he'd fallen asleep sitting against the bed head.

_Dean kicked the door down and burst into the house, kicking himself mentally again and again. He ran across the threshold and into the house, down the hall toward the stairs. Near the top of the stairs, the screams of a young girl reached his ears. Dean turned in the direction of the scream and saw another closed door. He grabbed the doorknob, but it didn't turn._

_He took a step back and booted the door, kicking it off its hinges. He heard another scream from the little girl, though it was probably from the shock of someone kicking her door in._

_Dean ran into the room, which by now was very much on fire. The curtains, the bed, the ceiling and a large part of the floor was already on fire, fire that separated Dean from the girl that sat in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest. Her face was stained with tears and her eyes were wide with terror._

_Dean glanced toward the ceiling and caught of glimpse of who he could only guess was the girl's mother, though her body was so consumed by the fire it was impossible to tell. He turned back to the girl. She was obviously not going to come to him. With a deep breath, Dean ran and leapt, clearing the flames with barely an inch to spare and landing with a slight stumble in front of the girl. He took in a few short breaths and held out his hand to the girl._

"_We have to get out," he said. He didn't really have time to give her the choice to let him help her, but he didn't want to scare her anymore then she already was. _

"_Cassie," the girl sobbed, looking upward. Dean swallowed, looking up at the ceiling again. So the woman up there wasn't the girl's mother. Guilt seeped through him, running through his body as easily as the blood in his veins. He should never have done this on his own._

"_Come on, I'll protect you," he said, turning back down to the girl and reaching a little further toward her. _Like I should have protected her,_ he added mentally. The girl continued to cry, but slowly got to her feet, taking his hand. She was maybe eleven or twelve, but despite that she was quite petite, so he could lift her as easily as a girl half her age. He held her tight to his chest as he turned back to face the wall of flames he'd crossed through. The fire had grown since he'd reached the girl, and he could tell almost immediately it was going to be a lot more difficult to get across them this time. But he wasn't going to let either of them die because of his foolish mistake._

_With a deep breath of anticipation, he ran. There was fire all around him; so this was what it had been like for Dad trying to get Sammy out of that nursery. He leapt, once again over the flames, and landed unsteadily on his feet on the other side, wobbling a bit. He gave a slight cough, whether from smoke inhalation or the cold he'd been trying to throw off for days, he didn't know. He didn't stop long enough to care. With the girl still held tight to his chest, he ran. Out of the room, down the stairs, through the hall, and back out through the gaping hole where the front door used to be._

_There were fire fighters outside, and an ambulance, and was that a police car? Dean could barely make it out. Up until that moment he'd been running mainly on adrenaline. He swallowed, and gently set the girl down on the front lawn before he'd walked six feet from the house. Then he crashed to his knees, and fell beside her, exhaustion and the cold finally winning out against him._

"Sam?" Sam grunted at the noise, then realized the noise was his name being whispered. "Sam. Wake up." Sam's head snapped up and his eyes opened. He blinked, and saw Haley sitting on his bed, looking at him with a worried look. "Was it a nightmare?" she asked. Sam frowned, trying to remember.

"Maybe…" he said. "But… it wasn't like the ones I've had before…"

"How do you mean?" Haley asked.

"I think it was in the past," Sam said, looking at the young woman. He glanced over at Dean who was tossing and turning, mumbling something every so often. "Looks like I'm not the only one having nightmares tonight," he said. Haley got to her feet, walking slowly over to Dean. Before she attempted to wake him up though, she slid her hand under his pillow and took out the knife, so that he wouldn't try to stab her if he panicked. She laid it on the bedside table.

"Dean," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Dean, wake up." He was shaking, and the mumbling was becoming more coherent. Haley frowned, and then took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake to wake him up. His eyes snapped open; a look halfway between despair and panic could be seen in them. When he saw Haley though, he seemed to calm down a great deal. But his breathing was fast and unsteady, and he looked like he wanted to cry.

When he saw Sam was awake, however, he sniffled and tried to put on a brave face. "What… what time is it?" he asked. Haley glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

"Twelve thirty-two," she said.

Sam looked over at his brother. He didn't look in much condition to be answering questions, but this question had been nagging at him all day, and his dream only served to increase that nagging feeling. Finally, he gave in and asked.

"Dean, have you been here before?" he asked. Dean looked over at him, and tried to put on his cocky grin.

"Wh-what makes you ask that, Sammy?"

"It's Sam," corrected the younger Winchester. "I had a nightmare. I think you were… I don't know, nineteen, twenty." He shook his head, not quite able to remember. "And I saw one of the houses we passed today." Dean's eyes widened. "Dean, you saw it, didn't you? The thing that killed Mum and Jess." Haley's eyes opened wider in shock, and she spun around to look at Sam.

Dean was staring at his brother, as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. Finally, he took in a deep breath, and answered, "Yeah, I was here. It was probably only the second job Dad let me do on my own." He sighed, obviously reliving something he wished he could forget. "I… I'd been fighting off the cold for about a couple of days, but I told Dad that I was better. He was busy with another gig, and I was bored stiff sitting around waiting for him to finish it, so when he told me about a supposed spirit hanging around Blackwood, I talked him into letting me take it on my own." He frowned, looking down at his hand. "I'd been trying to find out what it was for… I don't know, two days. I'd figured out where the 'spirit' was going to strike next, and so I parked the car out in front of the house, and I waited.

"But I wasn't as over the cold as I had told Dad," he said with a sigh. "I… I don't know, I guess I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, there was the orange light flickering in one of the windows, and I could hear the little girl- the one I was sure the spirit was going after- screaming. So I got out of the car and I ran inside and…" His voice cracked, and he swallowed.

"It was…" Sam said. "It was the thing that killed Mum." Dean nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I take it you know what happens from there?" he asked. Sam nodded. "The girl… I think she went to a foster home or something. Her sister had been taking care of her… the one I let die because I was stupid enough to think I could handle a job on my own." He glanced over at Haley. "You already knew this, didn't you?" he asked. "You told me back when you saved me from the Dream Leaper that you knew my secret." Haley bit her lip, and nodded.

"I knew some of it…" she said. She seemed a little… in shock seemed the right word for it. "I knew a girl had died in some sort of fire and that… you didn't tell anyone." Dean sighed, putting his head in his hands.

"That girl… she couldn't have been more than twelve," he said. "And I let the only family she had left burn on the ceiling." He was trying to stay strong, trying not to seem weak in front of Sam, but he knew he was failing. Haley put her hand to her forehead, sitting down rather heavily on one of the chairs, rubbing her temples with her finger and thumb. "Sorry," Dean said, "all these emotions probably aren't helping you." Haley shook her head.

"It… it's not that," she said. She opened her eyes and looked over at Dean. "Dean, you don't have to feel guilty anymore… you never did," she said with a small sigh. She took a deep breath before continuing. "That little girl forgave you a long time ago." Dean looked up, a confused look on his face. A duplicate look of confusion was on Sam's face as well. "I wasn't… I didn't know until… but I should have… the pieces all fit so perfectly… all the clues were there." She shook her head, and Dean's eyes suddenly widened in realization. "It was me you pulled out of that fire seven years ago, Dean," Haley said, not really looking at either brother. "You saved me…"

* * *

**A/N: So, what do you all think of this little turn of events? How many of you guessed what was happening during the vision? How many of you didn't know what was happening until the very end? How many times am I going to say 'How many'? Who knows, who cares, please review and tell me what you think.**


	28. No Time Like the Present

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Elise and the town of Blackwood.

Author's Note: This took me a while to write because I was having trouble with what was going to happen in this chapter. Thankfully, I figured out something, and this is the result. But then the site went down and it took even longer to get up. But finally, it's made it.

And as always, a big thankyou to Chase for her possibly-deniable courage for taking on the horrifying job of being my beta reader.

Review Answers:

_skycandygirl_: Interesting new name. Oks, so you had an idea that it was Haley... I mustn't have done it as well as I thought. Then again, the summary is a pretty big hint, lol. Hmm, no one's every intentionally inflated it, lol. As I say below (since I've been answering these reviews from bottom to top), I think ten more chapters, maybe a little less, I'm not entirely sure. That's the estimate though. As for idea... lol, my brain's full of them at the moment, each of them more... strange then the next. I get worried some times that I'm losing my touch with this story. then all you people give me such good reviews that Iforget about it for a while.

_puplover77_: Lol, so many people have said that. It's your favourite? Serious, no exxageration? Gonna keep writing, like I said below.

_Wildcat023_:Again, good to see I was able to cover my tracks well. A lot of people seem to like this twist.

_BridgetLynn_: I'm happy you liked it. And glad that I must've covered m ytracks well if you didn't expect it.

_Ghostwriter_: Yeah, you were write, I didn't want to kill Dean. Doesn't mean I can't though. Glad you liked the twist. Only trouble is, lol, I just found out somethign from Salvation (won't say what in case any of my readers haven't seen it yet), and it kind of doesn't fit in with this story. Then again, very little from the new episodes does, lol. I think this is definitely an AU now though. Flip side it is then, lol.

_mysterychic_: Glad you did. Don't worry, I'll keep writing as logn as I can, though I think this story only has ten chapters left, if that. It's not set in concrete though, it could go on longer, but probably not.

Chapter 27 – No Time Like The Present

* * *

Dean sat there on the side of his bed, staring at Haley, a strange look on his face. After almost a minute of silence, he finally spoke up. "Say what?" he asked. 

"I'm… I was the one in that house…" Haley said, her gaze moving from the floor to Dean's face. "I was twelve years old. I guess I've changed more in that time than I thought," she said. "Like I said, I didn't realize it until just now." She closed her eyes. "Thank you," she said. Dean frowned, giving Haley a puzzled look.

"'Thank you'?" he echoed. "What for?"

"You saved my life, Dean," Haley said. "I've wanted to thank you for years." She closed her eyes for a second, feeling like she had stepped off a dock and into a lake of guilt. "Stop feeling guilty!" she ordered. "I don't care what you think or how you feel; it's been seven years, and there was nothing you could've done even if you hadn't fallen asleep." Dean opened his mouth, but Haley continued. "No, I'll feel no self-pity from you, Dean Winchester." Her voice was completely calm, completely serious, like a commander's. "You've had seven years to deal with this. Don't drag out the guilt just because you've come back here." The tone of her voice left no room for argument.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. It was amazing how easily this young woman, who was at the very least a foot shorter then Sam, could command them without them even having a second thought before obeying. It was something she'd picked up from John; maybe the first hints of her empathy coming through.

"Okay," Dean said, looking from Sam to Haley. "But I'm sorry. That I couldn't save your sister."

Haley smiled. "I know," she said. She rubbed her temples. "Really, I do." They all shared a laugh. "I was angry for a few months. At you, at her, at the demon… though at the time I didn't know it was a demon." She shook her head. "But I got through it. I learned that there was no way anyone could have saved her." She glanced over at the clock. "Now, I think it's time to go back to sleep…" she said. "We've got some stuff to do tomorrow."

"Stuff such as…?" Sam looked at her, shaking his head slowly.

"This is where the demon was… it attacked me in a house in this town," Haley explained. "We have to check it to make sure it didn't have the same result as it did at your house." Sam seemed to understand what she meant.

"You think maybe it's attracted a poltergeist?" he asked.

"I'll think in the morning," Haley said, already walking over to her bed. "G'night boys," she said, crawling into bed. "Don't wake me up before seven. And bring me breakfast in bed."

"Of course, ma'am," Sam said in a terrible attempt at a British accent. "Would you like some wine with your toast?" he asked.

"No, just orange juice," Haley said sleepily, her eyes already closing. Neither she nor Sam thought to try and stay awake for Dean. They were both still in shock from that night's seemingly never-ending list of surprises.

"_Be mine forever Dean," she whispered, and then leaned forward and pulled him into a passionate kiss._

Dean gasped in fear as his eyes opened. He was soaked head-to-toe in a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was fast and shaky. He swallowed, and looked around in the darkness. "Sammy?" he whispered. He heard movement to his left, like a shuffling. Then his brother was by his side.

"I'm here, Dean," he said. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He felt guilty for getting his brother up, but quickly pushed that guilt away, not wanting to wake Haley and get another lecture. He just smiled thankfully in his brother's direction, though he had a feeling he wasn't going to be getting much sleep.

"Thanks…" he said, taking slow breaths. "You can… you can go back to sleep. I'll be fine now." He could see the hesitation in his brother's silhouetted figure; see that he was not entirely sure Dean was fine. "Go, you're going to be up early," Dean said. He knew Sam was frowning, even if he couldn't see it. Then his brother left, getting back to his feet and back to bed.

But Dean wouldn't be getting anymore sleep. He glanced over at the clock, which told him it was almost five. Not his normal wake up time. Nevertheless, as soon as he was sure Sam was resting peacefully once more, he climbed out of the bed and crept into the bathroom, taking a shower to wash off the sweat that had swept over his body during the nightmare.

He showered for what seemed like hours, then when he got out and got dressed, coming back out into the room, he found he'd only been up for about half an hour. The sun was only just starting to creep up over the horizon. He sighed, glancing around the room, and frowned in confusion when he found one empty bed that looked like a dog had slept in it, and one empty bed that looked like an angel had slept in it. The unmade bed was his.

"Haley?" He walked over to the perfectly-made, un-slept-in looking bed. He was sure she'd been there when he'd gotten up. He walked over to the bed and found no clue as to what had happened to his friend. He glanced around the room, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. No sense in panicking and waking up Sam if she had just gone for a very-early morning walk.

His eyes fell on the chair where they'd dumped their jackets, and found Haley's coat wasn't there anymore. Nor were her day clothes or her boots.

_Okay, so she obviously just went for a… _He cut that thought off as he sprinted to the window and pulled the curtains back a crack, looking out into the parking lot. _Early morning drive,_ he thought irritably. She'd taken his car. He muttered under his breath, something about scratched paint and someone suffering, and headed over to the kitchen bench to make some coffee.

* * *

Haley had gotten up about five minutes after she'd heard Dean turn the shower on. She'd quickly gotten dressed, then used Sam's laptop to go in search of the hospital where her mother had given birth to her. She'd hacked into its records to find out the name of her mother. 

"Elise Mathews," she turned the name over on her tongue. It sounded strange. "Haley Mathews." That sounded even stranger. That was who she would have been if her mother hadn't given her up. She shook herself. She still wasn't one hundred percent sure this was her mother. Couldn't get her hopes up. But the dates matched, not to mention she looked exactly like the woman in the photo, minus twenty years of age.

At that moment, Haley had heard the shower stop running. Not wanting to wait, but also not wanting to walk to the address she'd hacked from the hospital records, she'd grabbed Dean's car keys, pulled on her clothes and boots, and made a quick exit from the hotel.

She didn't really know what she expected. It was, after all, five-thirty in the morning, and very few people were up that early. But she'd wanted to at least take a look at the place her mother lived before she went to meet her.

To her surprise, she saw Elise Mathews in what looked like jogging gear, just coming back to a reasonably quaint looking house not far from the motel where she, Sam and Dean were staying. She hesitated for a split second before parking on the other side of the street and climbing out of the car. She walked across the road in a slow, even pace, wrestling with herself all the way up to the driveway before Elise actually noticed her.

"You… I remember you from the supermarket last night," Elise said, looking at Haley. "I take it you're an early morning jogger like myself?"

"Er… no, not normally," Haley said. "Um… this is going to sound kind of strange, but…" Ten seconds into the conversation and she was already coming up against a road block. "… did you give up a daughter about… twenty years ago?" Elise blinked, giving Haley a puzzled look.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked. Haley took in a deep breath, and pulled the photo from her pocket, handing it to Elise. She almost immediately felt a flash of recognition before Elise hastily handed the photo back to her. "No, I'm sorry. You must be thinking of someone else."

Haley glanced up and down the street, and then took a step closer. "You're lying," she said. Elise gaped at her.

"Excuse me?" she said, staring at Haley like she was crazy.

"You recognize the photo," Haley said. "I know you do." She narrowed her eyes.

"And how could you know that?" Elise asked, her hands on her hips.

"The same way I know you're feeling…" Haley trailed off for a minute, relaxing her mind so that she was more open to Elise. "…apprehensive… and… you're trying not to hope…" She smiled at Elise's shocked look. "I don't want to hurt you… I just… I need to know why you gave her up," she said. Elise narrowed her eyes at Haley.

"Why would that possibly interest you?" she asked.

Haley closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. "Because all my life, I've wanted to know why I grew up in a foster home," she said. "Why you let me go, Mum." Elise's eyes widened as she realized what she was hearing.

"Haley?" she gasped, and Haley saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes. She was trying hard, but couldn't possibly risk hoping. That brought an ache to Haley's heart like she had never felt. She nodded slowly.

"Yeah," she said, barely contained tears of her own starting to well up. "It's me." Her voice cracked. Elise stared at her, eyes wide, an entire rainbow of emotions shining through to Haley. Elise seemed to be holding back tears. She swallowed, and looked up to the house.

"Come… come on in," she said. "I think… I think we've got a lot to talk about." She gestured for Haley to follow her up the driveway, and kept looking over her shoulder, like she couldn't quite believe Haley was there and thought she might disappear any moment now.

"Don't worry," Haley said, walking up beside Elise. Her Mum… that sounded strange, even in her head. "Nothing will make me leave before we talk," she said. At that moment, her borrowed mobile (since she'd broken hers against a motel wall) started ringing. Grimacing, she pulled it out of her pocket, and glanced at the number. "Except that. Dammit!" She turned back to Elise. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," she said, answering the call. "This had better be good," she muttered into the phone.

"And good morning to you too, Haley," were Dean's first words. "Sam thinks that the house is haunted." Haley frowned. Behind her, she could feel Elise's eyes on her.

"What makes him think that… and why couldn't you wait until I got back?" she asked in a tight voice.

"He says he feels really cold, like he did back at our old house," Dean said. "I told him he's just cold because the sun hasn't even finished rising yet, but he says he was cold before he woke up. How he knew that…" Dean let the sentence hang to show he didn't know how Sam could know that. "And as to the second question: there isn't an answer for that, I just thought I'd let you know as soon as I found out."

"Well, I'm kind of busy with…," she tried to think of a way to put it, "… family matters," she said. There were a few seconds of silence, and then Dean seemed to understand what she was talking about.

"Oh, in that case… hurry back once you've… done that," was his answer.

"Will do," Haley said. "Don't call unless it's an emergency."

"Will do," Dean said in exact imitation of Haley. She rolled her eyes.

"Goodbye, Dean," she said, trying to hide the amused smile on her face. She ended the conversation and slid the mobile back into her pocket. "Sorry about that, some friends of mine, the ones I came here with… they're getting a little anxious about a job we're supposed to do," she said.

"Job?" Elise asked, curiosity leaking from her. Haley tilted her head to one side.

"Yeah, we…" she thought quickly, and gave a shiver. "Is it just me or is it freezing out here?" she asked, hoping Elise wouldn't push the question.

"Oh, I guess it is," Elise said. "Come on, we'd best get inside before we freeze to death," she said, leading Haley indoors. She still looked over her shoulder every few seconds. She was a bundle of nerves, and that was making Haley nervous.

"You don't have to be nervous," Haley said softly without thinking. Elise spun around, staring at Haley. Haley felt as if something had washed away, like any doubt that had been there suddenly dissolved.

Elise stared at her for almost a minute before speaking. "You have it, don't you?" she said. "Your grandmother's gift." That explained the sudden realization and lack of doubt. Elise smiled at Haley, a warm, welcoming smile. "Oh, I've searched for so long… and here you are in front of me… it seems almost too good to be true," she said. Haley, who was feeling another rainbow of mixed emotions, wasn't sure how to react to this new piece of information; Elise had given her up at birth… and then spent however many years searching for her?

"There's something I need to ask you," Haley said. "Before we sit down." Elise smiled sadly.

"Let me guess, why did I give you up when you were a baby?" she asked. Haley nodded, biting into her lower lip to keep it from trembling. The smile faded from Elise's face, and Haley felt a wave of shame, which quickly disappeared when Elise saw Haley's expression change. "Sorry… I always had to watch what I was feeling around my mother. Your… grandmother. I never expected to have to do it around my daughter as well."

"You don't…?" Haley let the question hang.

"No, I don't," Elise said. "Which is why I'm so surprised you do," she said. "When did it start?" she asked. Haley tried to think about that. She'd originally thought it had started about the time she'd met up with Sam and Dean. Now that she thought about it, though, it had been happening for a good six or seven months. Of course, when it had started it had been nothing more than a few tingles every now and then. She said so to Elise.

"Mmm… yeah, that's how my mother described it," she said. There was silence for a minute, and then Haley spoke up.

"You never answered my question," she realized. Elise looked up at her, her sad smile once again evident on her face.

"No, I didn't, did I?" she said. She sighed, gesturing to the couch in the living room. "Well… I was sixteen when I became pregnant." She gave a somewhat hollow laugh. "Your father skipped town first chance he got when he found out."

"Wait, he left?" Haley asked. She took out the photo. "Didn't he take this?" she asked.

"No, it was your grandmother behind the camera," Elise said. She glanced down at the photo. "Wow… I really don't look seventeen, do I?" she said.

"No…" Haley said. She swallowed, and nodded her head. "Continue," she said. Elise nodded.

"Well, my father, he… well, he wasn't pleased, to say the least," she said. "But my mother worked her magic on him, guided him down a path, you might say, and I was allowed to give birth to you... But no more than that. As soon as you were born, I was forced to give you up. I wasn't legally an adult, so I didn't have much say in the matter. By the time I was eighteen, I had no idea what had happened to you." She sighed. "But I never stopped looking, Haley, I swear," she said. Haley felt nothing but honesty, and fear that she wouldn't believe her.

"I know," Haley said, smiling softly. She breathed a sigh of relief for something she hadn't realized she'd feared. "All these years, I was worried you hadn't wanted me. That you didn't like me. I'm glad that I was wrong," she said. Elise took Haley's hand in hers.

"I'm glad too," she said, pulling her daughter into a loving hug.

* * *

"Did she say what time she was going to be finished?" Sam asked, his impatient pacing starting to eat away at Dean's own patience. 

"No. She just said, and I quote, 'Will do. Don't call unless it's an emergency'," he answered, turning back to his coffee that had been sitting there for over half an hour now. With a look of distaste, he picked up the mug and poured the contents down the sink drain. "Would you relax? If you turn one more time I'm going to have to hit you," he said, surprised by the seriousness in his voice. Sam seemed surprised too, and quickly took a seat on one of the beds.

"It's just… what if someone's living in that house… the poltergeist- or whatever it is that's there- could kill them before we even get there." Sam let out an exasperated sigh.

"Nothing's going to happen," Dean said. "We're not even sure there's something in that house."

"I am," Sam said simply. Dean furrowed his brow and stared at his younger brother for a long minute before getting to his feet.

"Okay," he said.

"'Okay' what?" Sam asked, looking up at his brother, confused.

"Let's go. If it'll help you relax, we'll go check this house out now." He offered his hand to Sam and pulled the younger Winchester to his feet. "And if there's something, then we go back later on and exorcise it out of there." Sam smiled thankfully at his brother. They grabbed what was needed, pulled on their jackets, and exited the motel room. They reached the parking lot before Dean remembered Haley had taken his car about an hour before. "Guess we're walking," Dean said. Sam shrugged with a small chuckle, and they began walking in the early morning light.

It took them about fifteen minutes to reach the house. It may not have taken quite as long if Sam hadn't suddenly decided he needed to take a leak about halfway there, which was followed by a moment of embarrassment while they tried to find a place for him to go. Eventually they found a small, dingy-looking pub, and Sam was desperate enough to use their men's room despite the obvious hygiene risks.

"I can't believe you couldn't hold out for another five minutes," Dean said as they left the pub, looking more than a little embarrassed at having to wait for his brother outside the men's room.

"Hey, I need to go, I go," Sam said. "You should know that better than anyone," he added with a grin. Dean gave a small laugh, recalling the time Sam _had_ gone when he'd needed to go. Dean had been carrying him to the bathroom at the time; they just hadn't quite made it. "Just be thankful we found the pub when we did, or you might've had an even larger embarrassment on your hands."

"Okay, too much information," Dean said with another laugh as they continued down the sidewalk in the direction of Haley's old house.

"Well, this place has certainly seen better days," Sam said, taking in the horror that was the house they had come to inspect.

"I think it's safe to say that nobody has lived in that house since Haley lived there," Dean said. He looked up and down the street. In the early morning, it seemed obvious no one would be looking out their window to watch two young men looking at a rundown old house, but better safe than sorry.

Beside him, Sam shivered, looking uncomfortably up at the house. "Something's in there, Dean," he said, biting his lower lip. "Something… evil." Dean looked at Sam, and then up at the house. He sighed.

"You really think so?" he asked. A small part of him was still unwilling to believe his brother could _sense_ something in the house. People couldn't have supernatural powers. It wasn't right. _Does that mean Sam isn't right? Does it mean he isn't a person? _With a shake of his head, Dean turned his attention back to his brother.

The younger Winchester was nodding quickly to Dean's question, a pleading look on his face. He obviously didn't know if Dean was going to believe him or not. The older Winchester stood there for almost a minute, scrutinizing Sam's face, trying to find any hint to the contrary of what his brother was saying. Then he gave a small half-smile. "Okay," he said finally, nodding his head. "We'll come back here later with Haley and send the bastard back to hell," he said. Sam smiled thankfully at his brother. "Now come on," Dean said. "We have to get back to the motel and prepare Her Highness's breakfast before she returns." Sam laughed, and they began their (thankfully uneventful) walk back to the motel.

Haley was there when they got back, a broad smile on her face as she-

"Oh my god!" Sam cried. "Haley, what's wrong?" he asked, his gaze falling on the table. "What drove you to cook… bacon and eggs for breakfast?"

Dean had not bothered asking questions. He sat down on one of the chairs, picked up a fork, and speared a piece of bacon. "Sam, something good has finally happened to us," he said, licking his lips and eying the bacon on the fork like a predator watching its prey, "Don't spoil it by asking questions." Sam chuckled, shaking his head at his brother's odd reaction to the food. Then again, it wasn't all that surprising. They hadn't had a real breakfast in… how long? It seemed like a lifetime.

Sam sat down, and gratefully feasted on the bacon and eggs Haley had laid out in front of him. The young woman then sat down at the head of the table and started eating her own breakfast. Sam couldn't help but savour the tastes he had gone so long without. Sure, breakfasts on the road weren't too bad, but just once in a while it was nice to sit down at a table and have dinner like a normal family.

_Family,_ Sam thought. _That's what we are._ He smiled, and lifted the glass of orange juice he hadn't noticed Haley set down beside his plate. He took a long drink, and set the glass back down, still smiling.

"Sammy, if you don't stop smiling I'm going to become concerned," Dean said, or that's what it sounded like.

"Dean, finish eating before you speak," Sam said, too happy with the current situation to bother correcting his brother on his name. "I'm enjoying my breakfast and seeing the remains of yours is spoiling it." Haley laughed. Dean tried and almost choked on his breakfast. "Told you you should finish eating," Sam said with a cocky grin. Dean tried to glare, but couldn't keep the glare long before they were all laughing at how ridiculous he had looked trying to glare and not laugh at the same time.

**

* * *

A/N: I think I may have ended this chapter a bit too abruptly. I don't know why, I just didn't know where else to go with it, so the next chapter will be starting a little while after it. As always, reviews are loved, they help me to write faster. And I know more people are reading then reviewing, so guys, please, review. Just a friendly request, not an order.**


	29. The Future Waits For No One

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Elise and the town of Blackwood. Oh, and Hecton in name only. And I would own the witty comment if I put one here, but I'm not in the right frame of mind for a witty comment.

Author's Note: What to say, what to say. This chapter has become intimidatingly long. I hope it's not too long. I just couldn't bring myself to break it off. Hope it's still good. A big thanks to Chase for beta-ing this story.

Review Answers:

_EvilTC_: Glad you liked the twist. Here's the next chapter.

_skycandygirl_: Glad you liked the ending of the last chapter. You probably won't like the ending of this one, lol. As for the other thing, I think I messaged you about it. If I didn't, then I'll say now, I'd be more then happy to help. I like helping people (especially if I'm not the one coming up with ideas).

_puplover77_: I've said 'glad' too many times. I'm pleased that you enjoyed the last chapter, I've kept going, and here is the result.

Chapter 28 – The Future Waits For No One

* * *

Breakfast had been good. It had been one of those things to try and relieve the pressure that would begin weighing down on them as the day went by and night approached. Haley spent most of the day pacing and glaring at the mobile on her bed, which despite her mutterings and orders, refused to ring with her mother on the other end. Elise had told her that she had to work for most of the day. She had actually been on the verge of staying home. After all, it wasn't every day your long lost daughter showed up on your doorstep. But Haley had convinced her to go to work; she needed to keep up the rent of the house, and to do that she needed to keep her job. 

But Sam was beginning to wish Haley hadn't told Elise that, because her constant pacing was grating away at his nerves as he tried to find an exorcism that fit their situation; since they didn't actually know what they were dealing with, he was trying to memorize a couple.

And Dean was doing what he did best under pressure; being somewhere else pretending he wasn't feeling the pressure. Today, that somewhere else was the car wash with man's (or at least, one man's) real best friend: the Impala.

"Haley, why don't you just ring her yourself?" Sam said, looking up from his Dad's journal and trying not to leap over and throttle the young woman.

"Because, I don't want to seem over-eager, I mean, she is at work," Haley said. "I just hope she hasn't forgotten the number I gave her." She continued pacing. "I hope I gave her the right one. What's the number again? I think I may have gotten the last-"

"Haley!" Sam got to his feet, pushing her back and down so that she was sitting on the bed. "Calm, relax, breathe." He breathed in and out deliberately, trying to direct calm toward her via her empathy, but since he still wasn't sure how it worked, he wasn't sure if it was doing anything. She stared at him, breathing beginning to match his, though it seemed to be in a somewhat mocking way.

"I can't stand this," Haley said, pushing him away from her. "It's hard enough waiting for the sun to set so we can go after whatever's in my old house. I have to wait for my mother, who I have not seen or heard from since… well, never… to call me and… and…"

"And what?" Sam asked. Haley sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know what I expect to happen." She rolled her head, her neck making some somewhat unnerving cracking sounds as she did so. "I mean, as soon as we evict whatever's taken up residence in that house, we're as good as gone, right?" she asked, opening her eyes and looking at Sam. He frowned, looking at her with a sympathetic look on his face.

"You don't have to be," he said, trying to give her a small smile. Trying and failing. For some reason it seemed to pain him to say what he was saying. "You can stay… Dean and I can do fine if you want to; I mean… she's your mum." He bit his lower lip. "You deserve time to get to know her." Haley stared at Sam where he was kneeling in front of her. Even on his knees, with her sitting on the bed, he was looking her right in the eyes, or maybe a bit over her eyes. She smiled gratefully at him.

"Maybe…" she said. She felt something… it was weak, like EVP on a recorded message, but she knew it was there. It felt like… disappointment? She shook her head. Sam's feelings were always strange, conflicted, not quite all there. It was always confusing trying to read him if he wasn't feeling emotions strongly. More so than with anyone else. "I've still got a day or so to decide," she said. Sam nodded slowly.

"Right," he said. He glanced over at his Dad's journal. "So are you going to help me memorize exorcisms or will I have to do it on my own?" he asked, cracking a smile. Haley grinned, and got to her feet.

"I suppose I could help," Haley said, a look of mock-indifference on her face, like it meant nothing at all to her, "Only 'cause I wouldn't want to be left defenceless if, god forbid, something should happen and you get killed." That mocking look was still on her eyes, and Sam gave a half-hearted laugh.

"Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence," he said, looking like he was caught between laughter and… crying? "Nice to know you think well of my chances of survival." Haley nodded, smiling, and got to her feet, walking over to the table and Sam's laptop.

"I'll do some research here," she said. "You keep looking through the journal." Sam nodded, getting to his feet as well and sitting down at the table, once again flipping through the journal.

"I just wish we knew more about what we were dealing with," Sam said. "I mean, no one has lived in that house since… since Dean saved you." Haley was sure that wasn't how he had been going to name that event. "So we have no idea what could be in there. Nor do we know why it hasn't just left when it realized there was no one to feed off of." He sighed, shaking his head. "It makes finding a way to get rid of it kind of difficult," he said. Haley nodded, not really listening.

"I think I've just found the perfect exorcism," Haley said. "There are no actual specifics to it," she said. "And what it requires is pretty easy to get ahold of." Sam set the journal down and stood up, walking around the table to look at the site Haley had found.

"What language?" he asked. Haley looked at the words for a minute or so, trying to make sense of them.

"Latin," she finally said. "Roughly translated 'Leave this place and never return. Go back to the hell you were birthed from.'."

"Great," Sam said. "Well, Latin does seem to do it a lot. I guess this time should be no different." He read the chant a few times in his head until he was sure he'd memorized it. "Okay, let's see… crossroad dirt… that shouldn't be too hard… holy water… angelica root…" He continued reading the list of herbs and such they would need for the exorcism to work. "I gotta say, what it lacks in specifics, it makes up for in equipment. I don't know if we're going to be able to get all this stuff today."

"Well, we've got some of it in the trunk of the Impala," Haley said. "One of us can go in search of a crossroad as soon as Dean gets back."

"Yeah, a dirty, dusty crossroad." Sam gave a small laugh. "Dean's not going to be happy; he just had that car washed." Haley laughed as well.

"Yeah," she said. "As for the rest of the stuff, I'm sure there's an herbal shop of some sort where I can find what's left." She glanced at her watch. "In fact, I think I'll just go do that now," she said, getting to her feet, grabbing her purse, and pulling on her boots. Sam nodded taking her seat in front of the laptop. She was almost at the door when he spoke up.

"And don't stop by your mum's work on the way, we need that stuff ASAP," he said.

"Oh, shoot," Haley said as she closed the door. Sam gave another small laugh when he realized that was exactly what she had planned on doing. He continued to examine the web page for a while, but eventually grew bored with reading all the known times the exorcism had been used and succeeded. He was bored and tired; he hadn't gotten very much sleep the night before.

He looked over at his bed, smiled a little sheepishly, and shut down the laptop, walked over to the bed, and lay down, closed his eyes. If they were going to be fighting a spirit of some sort that night, he wanted to be well rested. His head had barely touched the pillow before he was drifting off to sleep.

* * *

"The handsome one's home," Dean called as he walked into the motel room. His eyes fell on the sleeping form of his brother, and for a minute he considered making some loud noise right next to Sam's ear, just for the fun of it. He decided against it about halfway there, remembering how Sam had stayed awake the night before for him. 

He smiled down at Sam as the boy rolled over in his sleep, hugging one of his pillows to his chest like a teddy bear. Dean pulled out his mobile and held it up, hit a button, and took a photo of his brother while he slept. He would look at that in the future to remind himself there was still some innocence left in his brother.

He looked up as the door opened behind him and Haley walked in, looking a little unhappy.

"Trouble in paradise, your majesty?" he asked with a cocky grin. The glare he received told him one thing: 'If looks could kill'…

"Yeah, and its name is Sam Winchester," Haley answered.

"Never heard of her," Dean said, grinning.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Haley said, dropping a bag on the kitchen bench. "I take it since my problems are currently sleeping like an angel, he didn't tell you about the exorcism we found?" Dean looked up.

"You found one?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's quite simple, for any old spirit basically," she explained. "And most of the stuff we need for it is either in the trunk of the car, or in this bag." She gestured to the bag she'd walked in with. "That's the good news." Something about her tone of voice made Dean reluctant to ask the following question:

"What's the bad news?"

"Well, it's not really bad news… I mean, not for me anyway… Or maybe it is, I suppose it all depends on how you look at it," she said. Dean eyed her suspiciously.

"You're avoiding the question," he said.

"Am I?" Haley asked, like it was news to her. "In that case, I'll go find it and give it an answer," she said, and made for the door.

"What's the bad news, Haley?" he demanded, stepping in front of her.

"Okay… we have to go out of town in your newly cleaned car to get dirt from some dusty crossroad that we're hoping isn't too far out of town," Haley said, very quickly, so that it took Dean a few seconds to catch up. Haley took those few seconds and stepped around him. She was out the door before he could stop her. "I'll be back by four!" she called behind her.

"Wait… my car!" he shouted after her, finally making sense of her jumbled mess of words. "The car I just spent two hours cleaning out, washing and polishing!" He stuck his head out the door, but Haley had already gone around the corner at the other end of the hall. Grumbling under his breath, he turned back into the room.

"She told you about the crossroad dirt?" Dean gave a startled yelp, jumped back, and staggered out into the hall, before falling flat on his behind. He stared up at his younger brother, who seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh.

"You're real clever, you know that?" Dean said sarcastically, looking up at Sam with a bemused look on his face. "That wasn't funny," he said, pulling himself to his feet.

"Aw, it wasn't?" Sam asked, putting on a childish face. "Not even the teeniest, tiniest bit?" he asked, putting his thumb- and index finger-tips together as if to show him how tiny. Dean gave Sam a mock-pitying smile, and then a small, deliberate, sigh of resignation.

"Okay, maybe the teeniest tiniest bit funny," he said. "But that's all," he added quickly. Sam chose that moment to lose control of whatever part of his brain it was that had allowed him to contain his amusement, and doubled over in a fit of laughter. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Tiny, Sam… think molecule-tiny," he said. Sam either couldn't hear him over his laughter, or just ignored him. "That's how big you're going to be if you don't stop laughing." Sam did stop laughing, but almost a minute passed before that happened, and only then because he needed to take a complete breath. He stood there for a few minutes, a goofy grin on his face as he tried to refill his lungs with air. Dean rolled his eyes again. "So what's this about dirt roads and my clean car?" he asked. Sam's amusement faded at hearing those few words.

"We need crossroad dirt," he said. "And the last crossroad I saw that wasn't made of tar was about a mile out of town," he said. Dean groaned, rolling his head, and making a somewhat unnerving cracking sound as he did so.

"Fine, let's go," he said. "Might as well get it over with." He walked past Sam and grabbed the keys off the table, a look of reluctance and annoyance etched on his face. Sam nodded, a little more enthusiastically then Dean appreciated, before leading his brother out of the motel room and down the hall, out to the car.

* * *

Haley closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as she waited for her mother to finish work. She only had to wait five minutes, but of course, her mother had to be a receptionist at – guess what: a hospital. Thankfully, there were no births going on, but for the first time for as long as Haley could remember, the hospital she was in did not seem to be completely empty. There was an awful lot of pain in that one building; surely too much than was healthily possible. 

She shook her head, trying to clear it. Her grandmother had been an empath, hadn't she? Haley would have to ask Elise if her grandmother had told her anything about dealing.

"Haley?" she looked up, seeing Elise standing there. "Ready to go?" Elise asked.

"More than," Haley said, getting to her feet. "Hospitals and I just don't… get along too well," she said, giving herself a shake.

"Mmm… yeah, your grandmother had the same problem with supermarkets…" Elise said. A thoughtful look crossed her face. "She never told me why," she added. Haley grinned. "So, anything planned for our afternoon of mother-daughter bonding?" Elise asked. Haley was amazed how easily Elise had eased into the idea that her daughter, against all odds, had seemingly fallen back into her life. It really made it harder for Haley to decide whether to stay or not.

"I actually hadn't really thought about it," Haley admitted. "And I'm sorry to say this, but I'll have to go by four." Elise looked confused.

"Why?" she asked.

"My friends… we have something on tonight, and we need time to prepare." She suddenly felt really guilty. Here her mother was, the one she'd spent every night of her childhood wishing for, and she had to schedule the time she spent with her. "I'm really sorry," she said. Elise gave her an understanding smile.

"Hey, we both have lives… as much as we want to, we can't just drop everything because we haven't seen each other in… ever," she said. "I understand." Haley gave her a smile made up of a mixture of gratitude and relief. "So, what shall we do?" she asked.

* * *

Dean had a somewhat distraught look on his face as he took in the dust and mud that now coated his car which, about half an hour earlier, had been sparkling clean. Sam stood behind him, a look of mock-pity mixed with barely contained amusement on his face as he patted his brother lightly on the back in a semi-comforting way. The fact that his brother seemed to be taking it seriously almost brought a look of real pity to his face. Almost. For some reason, Dean had always found it necessary to love some form of inanimate object. Maybe it was some psychological thing about losing his mother so young. Sam didn't pretend to want to understand. 

"Don't worry, man. We'll get this done, and you can take her back to the wash for another clean up," he said.

"Two hours… two very long, back-breaking hours…" Dean said in a distracted voice, like he hadn't really heard what Sam had said. Chances were, he hadn't.

"Come on, we have preparations to make, research to do, and stomachs to be filled," Sam said, turning his brother around so that he was facing him, and not the car. "Listen. You are going to get over this, okay?" he said, doing his best to imitate the way he often sounded after any of the more traumatic missions. "Probably," he added as an afterthought. Dean gave him a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah, it's just dust, right," he said.

"Yeah," Sam said, in an intentionally unconvincing tone. "And mud… and a few leaves in the mud… and I think you might have run over a field mouse or two while we were-"

"Let me guess: you want to ride in the trunk?" Dean interrupted. Sam had a hard time telling if Dean was being serious or not, so he shut up about anything else the outside of the car might have picked up. Dean flashed him a cocky grin as he walked passed him.

"Y'know, I wasn't kidding about stomachs to fill," Sam said, turning around and following his brother. "I'm getting hungry and- and I'm getting hungry."

"Call Haley," Dean said without turning around. "Maybe she can bring something back when she's finished being with her mother."

"Or maybe you could go out and get me something, considering Haley isn't due back for, oh…" he checked his watch. "Four hours," he finished.

"You'll live," Dean said, still walking away. Then he grinned. "Probably," he added. Sam rolled his eyes and sprinted after his brother.

* * *

They spent the next three hours preparing everything they would need. Sam checked and double checked the exorcism ritual, making sure they could get everything they would need to get rid of whatever spirit was haunting the house. 

"Hey Sam." Dean came into the motel room from checking that everything was in the car. "A call just came in on the police scanner," he said. "Looks like our spirit just got its first victim." Sam's eyes widened.

"What? When?" he asked.

"Not an hour ago," Dean said. "Neighbours called the cops saying they could hear screaming coming from inside the house. Cops showed up, found three dead bodies inside the house."

"Let's go," Sam said. Dean nodded.

"Way ahead of you," he said, tossing Sam one of the many fake ID's they had. "Grab your mobile, we'll call Haley on the way," he added. Sam scooped his mobile up from the table as he followed his brother outside to the car. They got in, and drove as fast as was legally allowed to the house, where two polices cars and an ambulance were already parked. They'd called Haley, and she was on her way over, though it was clear she wasn't pleased about it.

A young man who looked more like he belong in college than in a police uniform stopped them as they approached. "Sorry, no civilians allowed past this point," he said, trying to sound authoritative.

"Civilians?" Dean asked sceptically, and gave a short, unamused laugh. He withdrew his wallet, showing the young cop his ID. "I'm Detective Jordan, I'm sure you've heard of me," he said. The young cop opened his mouth, but Dean continued before he could answer. "'Knew you had. This here is my partner, Detective Wilkins," he said, nodding over his shoulder at Sam. "We'll let ourselves in." He stepped around the dumbstruck young cop who was still trying to work out what to say to the confident young man who said he was a detective.

"How do you do that?" Sam asked as son as they were out of earshot.

"Do what?" Dean asked, not really paying Sam much attention.

"Act so sure of yourself," Sam said. "You talked to that guy like you really expected him to have heard of you, and judging by the dumbstruck look on his face, I think he actually thinks he should have," he continued, glancing over his shoulder. Dean grinned.

"It's a gift, brother of mine," Dean said. "A gift," he repeated, pushing the front door open. "And the handsome face helps," he added, looking around the room they'd stepped into. Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Always back to the handsome face.

"Do you smell something?" Sam asked. He looked around, sniffing the air. Dean followed suit.

"Urgh… what is that stench?" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That, boys, is the lovely smell of charred flesh." A middle-aged man walked into the front room. "May I ask who you are?" he asked, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

"I'm Detective Jordan," Dean said. He gestured to his brother. "This here is my partner, Detective-"

"Spare me the pleasantries," the old cop said, shaking his head. "If you're here to help, you're welcome." Dean gave Sam a 'So there' look, and then turned back to the cop.

"We're here to help… what was that you said about charred flesh?" Dean asked reluctantly. The old cop gave a somewhat disgusted look.

"Idiots, they came in here looking for a good scare, most like…" He shook his head, and then nodded to the door behind him. "They're in there," he said. Dean exchanged a worried glance with Sam, and then the two of them stepped around the cop and into the next room.

Sam cringed when his eyes fell on the three bodies lying in different parts of the room, wrinkling his nose as the smell got worse.

Each of the bodies looked like they'd been killed in different ways, none of them pleasant.

"That's weird," Dean said. Sam's eyes widened as he turned to his brother, who was reluctantly eyeing one of the corpses, or what was left of it.

"Dean, that guy looks like he got torn apart…" Sam said in a somewhat disgusted tone. "I don't think 'weird' is the right word to cover it," he said, doing his best not to look at any of the corpses. One looked like her entire lower body had caught fire, one had been torn apart, and the remaining one had a bullet hole in the side of his head, and a gun lay inches from where his hand had fallen.

"No, that's not what I mean," Dean said. "What land animal do you know that leaves bite marks like that?" he asked. Sam gave his brother a puzzled look, like he'd lost his mind or something.

"Dean, have you forgotten that there's a…" he checked to make sure no one was listening, "… a spirit at work in this house?" he asked.

"Nope," Dean said, shaking his head. "But a spirit didn't do that," he said, pointing to the remains. "Only a great white could do that," he said. Sam opened his mouth, but that was not the answer he had been expecting and he stood there in shock for a few seconds while Dean turned to leave. Then he turned around and sprinted after his brother.

"Excuse me, did you just say great white, as in the shark?" Sam asked. Dean nodded, not paying much attention to anything but the direction he was going in.

"That's right," he said. "A great white shark."

"How do you even know that?" Sam asked, trying to get ahead of his brother. He had to stop for a second as they reached the front door (there was no way they could fit out at the same time, and Dean had already pushed ahead through the door), and then continued after his brother.

"Is that the real question you should be asking?" Dean asked, stopping finally and turning to his brother. Sam stopped, frowned, then shook his head.

"How could a great white shark, that has no way of moving about, let alone surviving, out of water, kill someone inside a run down old house?" he asked. Dean nodded.

"Exactly." He walked around and climbed into the driver's seat of the car. Sam made to get into the passenger's seat, but Dean reached over and locked the door.

"Wh-?" Sam began, surprised by what his brother had just done.

"Wait here for Haley, fill her in on what we've worked out so far on the way back to the motel," he said. "I'll call you if I find anything out," he added. Sam sighed as Dean pulled away from the sidewalk and out onto the road, doing a u-turn and heading back in the direction of the motel. Shaking his head, he turned around, and looked up at the 'haunted house'. Then he walked over to the edge of the sidewalk and took a seat, glancing up and down the street every so often in the hope that Haley wouldn't take too long.

And for once, he was in luck. She showed up not five minutes after Dean had left.

"Sorry I took so long," she said, obviously not realizing he and Dean had only arrived about ten minutes earlier. "I may have been quicker, but there's the small fact that I was with my mother. You know: The one I never met."

"Three people were killed," Sam said, bringing an abrupt halt to Haley's rambling.

"What?" she asked.

"Yeah… but what makes no sense is how they were killed," he explained, getting to his feet, and gesturing for her to follow. "If it was a spirit, it's like no spirit I've ever heard of," he said.

Haley walked in silence for a moment. That moment passed and she turned her head to look at him. "Are you going to tell me how they were killed or do I have to guess?" she asked.

"One of them had her legs near-burned off, one of them shot himself in the head, or that's what it looks like. And one of them got torn apart," he said.

"Okay… ew," Haley said.

"Yeah, but get this: Dean says that he was torn apart by a great white shark," Sam said. Haley's eyes widened.

"Okay, how can Dean even tell it was a great white shark?" she asked. Sam couldn't help but smile. She glanced at him, obviously picking up on his amusement.

"Mind telling me what's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing," Sam said. "Anyway, the real question is…?" _Ironic how Dean was saying this to me not five minutes ago._

"How could a great white shark kill somebody on dry land?" Haley guessed. Sam nodded. "Where's Dean?" she asked.

"My lovely brother would be back at the motel by now, I'd say," Sam said, "because he took his car, without me, and drove back to the motel, leaving me behind to walk back to the motel."

"Well, I'm sure the company's much better," Haley said with a grin. Sam chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess it is," he said. "Plus, I don't have to smell those field mice Dean ran over."

"Ew," Haley said, shaking her head in disgust, bringing another chuckle from Sam.

"You kill spirits and demons for a living and you can't stand the thought of a dead mouse?" he asked.

"Demons and spirits rarely leave behind disgusting remains when killed, considering spirits basically are remains and demons can't be killed," Haley said. Sam nodded, not really sure what to say to that. Actually, lately he wasn't really sure what to say to Haley at all.

* * *

Dean had read his Dad's journal from cover to cover, finding no hint as to what could bring a great white shark to a small town house, nowhere near the ocean, and keep it alive long enough to tear some poor kid apart. Not to mention conjure flames beneath someone without leaving a mark on the floor, and then drive someone else to kill himself. 

"There has to be something…" he thought out loud, flipping through the journal for the third time in the past five minutes.

"There is." Dean looked up as the door opened, admitting Haley and a somewhat bemused looking Sam. Dean flash Sam an innocent smile, which Sam responded to with a far more unnerving smile that told Dean he'd better watch his back over the next couple of days.

Haley sat down beside Dean, and switched on Sam's laptop.

"You mind explaining what that something is?" Dean asked. Haley's fingers were almost blurs moving over the keyboard of the laptop. After a few moments, she stopped, and turned the computer around, showing Sam and Dean a Real Estate record (one that Dean had a feeling wasn't up for public viewing on the internet).

"Over the past seven years, that house, and the houses around it, have been bought and sold over two dozen times," Haley explained. "And…" She opened a minimized window. "Coinciding with those moves, almost the same amount of cops have made sudden departures from this town."

"So what do you think's been going on?" Sam asked.

"I think there have been disappearances in this town," Haley said, "but someone's trying to cover it up."

"Do you think that someone is in league with the spirit?" Dean asked.

"Is that possible?" Sam asked. "I mean… a spirit is normally nothing more than a manifestation, not an actual conscious being."

"Not all the time though," Dean said, remembering back to their old home, where they'd met the spirit of their mother. She'd definitely been a conscious being, aware of what she was doing, not just being driven by emotions taken to the grave. Sam nodded, obviously remembering the same thing.

"I suppose it's possible the spirit's using someone alive to cover up its existence," Sam said. "Keep people from learning about the large run of bad luck that place has had until it's too late."

"The question is: Who is that someone?" Dean said.

"Well… they'd have to have been here for at least seven years…" Haley said. "And judging from the record, they'd need connections in the police department to keep the disappearances from going public." Dean exchanged a look with Sam. "What? You've thought of someone already?" she asked.

"Well, there was a cop at the crime scene this morning," Dean said. "He wasn't exactly the friendliest guy in the world."

"Mmm… yeah, well, unfriendliness doesn't exactly make him evil," Haley said.

"He didn't seem to really care that the kids had been killed," Sam added.

"Okay, that might," Haley said. "Think we should deal with him before, or after we deal with the spirit?"

"After," Dean said, glancing at his watch. "We still need to prepare the house for the exorcism, and we only have a couple of hours left until dark." Haley nodded.

"Okay… well, we're going to have to wait until the cops have cleared out before we can even think of preparing the house," she said.

"If what we think is right, then we won't have to worry about that," Sam said. "They'll have cleaned everything up and then cleared out before anyone noticed." Dean glanced at Haley, who nodded in agreement.

"Okay, let's go," she said, getting to her feet.

* * *

Sure enough, the cops had cleaned up the place, and there was nothing left to show any sign they had ever been there. So Sam, Dean and Haley entered the house and quickly set about preparing it for the exorcism, which, unfortunately could only be done after the sun had set. 

"Did you… uh… ever find out how this spirit brought a shark here and kept it alive above water?" Haley asked, looking around nervously.

"No," Dean said. "There was absolutely nothing in Dad's journal," he added. Haley froze.

"Are you telling me we just walked into a house haunted by something we know nothing about?" she demanded. Dean looked over his shoulder, looked at her like she was an idiot, and nodded his head.

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling you," he said, turning his attention back to the satchels he was putting together. They were a lot more complicated than the ones Missouri had showed them how to make, but thankfully had fewer ingredients. Haley looked nervously around the room they were in. It was the one Dean and Sam said the three teenagers had been killed in. She felt on edge, and was jumping at just about every shadow.

"Is there something wrong?" Sam asked, looking up from the satchels. Haley gave a start at his voice, spinning around and hand going for the gun at her belt. Sam's eyes widened, as did Haley's. After a minute, her hand fell to her side and she shook her head.

"Yes… no, maybe… I don't know," she said. "I just feel… I don't know. There's so much fear in this place."

"Fear?" Sam asked. He glanced at Dean. Haley looked between, nodding.

"Yeah… Aren't you guys…?" she let the question hang.

"Well, yeah, of course we're afraid," Dean said. "But not to the degree you're describing." He got to his feet, looking around. "Do you think someone else is in here?" he asked, rubbing his hands on his jeans to get the residue of crossroad dirt off them. Haley frowned, looking around, slowly trying to pin-point the centre of the fear. She had a vague awareness of two smaller points, Sam and Dean, but the rest…

"It's like it's all around me… in the walls… in the ceiling… on the floor." She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the tightness the fear had wrapped around her brain.

"Fear, huh?" Sam asked, a thoughtful look on his face. Dean glanced at him.

"I know that look," he said. "That's the look you get every time you think you're on to something. Spill it," he said.

"Give me the journal," Sam said, holding out his hand. Dean did so without hesitation. Haley walked up beside Sam to look at the page he had flipped to.

"Fear Spectres?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Actually, this explains a whole lot," he said. "A Fear Spectre feeds on the fear of its victims, but not all at once; it stores it in itself, which would explain why you're feeling so much fear," he said to Haley. "And the fact that it takes a human form; it probably isn't in league with the cop, it probably _is_ the cop." He stopped for a minute before turning to his brother. "We fought one back in Hecton a few years back, remember?" Sam said. Dean thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"Yeah, that's right," he said.

"So… what does it do?" Haley asked, looking from one brother to the other and back again.

"It brings a person's deepest fears to life," Sam said. "And I'm willing to bet that those teenagers here were all afraid of what it was that killed them. Being attacked by a shark; it probably filled the room with water and manifested a shark."

"Yeah, the trouble is, the fear only exists for the person who's afraid of it," Dean said. "To anyone else… well, to that guy's friends, it would have looked like something invisible was tearing him apart… if they weren't so busy being attacked by their own fears that is."

"But you two already beat your deepest fears, didn't you?" Haley asked. "Back in St Louis, when you fought the Dream Leaper." Sam exchanged a look with Dean.

"I suppose it's possible it has nothing to latch on to for us…" Sam said, shrugging. "I mean, it would explain why it hasn't attacked yet."

"Yeah, there's just one problem," Dean said, glancing at Haley.

"What?" Haley asked. Before Dean could answer, the door behind them swung open and slammed into the wall with a loud clatter. Haley spun around. Her mother stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed, a look of cold disgust in her eyes.

* * *

"That," Dean said as Haley spun around. He looked in the direction Haley was looking, at the door, and saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. "Haley never faced her fear," he said to Sam. "Hell, she probably doesn't even know what it is." He glanced at Haley, who was shaking her head, backing away from the closed door. 

"We'd better hurry," Sam said. "Once someone's trapped by a Fear Spectre, there's no way out except to destroy the Spectre." Dean nodded, grabbing two of the satchels.

"I'll take east and north, you take south and west," he said. Sam nodded, and they split up, Sam heading toward the south corner while Dean headed east. It took him about ten seconds to reach the eastern-most corner of the house, and with amateur precision, he kicked a small hole into the wall, and slid the satchel into it.

He sprinted out of the room and into the next one, repeating the process with fast efficiency. "Okay, Sammy!" he called, bending down, hands on his knees, as he relaxed a little, hoping his brother hurried up with the exorcism chant so that they could get out of the house.

"He won't be saving you this time." Dean's breath caught in his throat, his eyes going wide. Slowly, fearfully, he straightened up, and turned, his breath coming in short gasps.

"No… no…" he whispered, his eyes falling on the slight figure standing in the doorway of the room. Her ankle-length red dress glistened in the moonlight shining through the window, and her dull eyes were locked onto his. "Alvira."

* * *

Sam had a little further to run than Dean, but he was much faster at getting it done, because the western and southern corners were in a smaller part of the house, not to mention that they were in the same room. It took him about a minute to get both of them into their respective corners. He returned to the centre of the house, the room where the Fear Spectre had killed the three teenagers earlier that day, and waited another thirty seconds before hearing Dean's call. He closed his eyes, pulling the exorcism to the surface of his mind. 

"Licentia is locus quod nunquam reverto," he said, opening his eyes. "Vado tergum ut abyssus…" He stopped, all thoughts of the exorcism banished from his mind as the room began to change. Haley faded away right before his eyes. The tools he had used to prepare the exorcism had vanished. The room was suddenly filled with a bright white light, so bright he had to shield his eyes with his arm.

After a few seconds, the light faded. He opened his eyes again. The room was different; it was still the same room, but it was happier, furnished. He glanced around the room, and his eyes widened when they reached the arch-like opening where the door had been. And through the archway walked a woman, wearing a sleek black dress, her face hidden by a seemingly blacker veil.

Sam stood, frozen in shock as the woman approached him. When she was about three feet away, a light wind swirled around him, and the veil was lifted from her face.

"Hello, Sam," Jessica said, a warm smile on her face. At the back of his mind, Sam wondered what he could possibly fear about Jessica. That part of his mind almost didn't exist. All his thoughts, all his focus was on Jessica as she stood there smiling at him.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was just getting too long, lol. I decided to cut it off here, and so I'll start the next chapter with the explanation to Sam's fear scenario. Hope y'all enjoyed this longest chapter I've ever written, at a total of 6,689 words. Definitely the longest chapter I've ever written for any story.**

**As always, reviews are appreciated. Especially now, I need to know how many of you didn't like how long this chapter was and how many of you didn't mind (and as a side note, its unlikely any more chapters of this story will be this long).**


	30. A Future For You and Me

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Elise and the town of Blackwood. Make believe I've said something witty.

Author's Note: Okay, so I cut the last chapter off before it became too long. I hope. If I didn't, well… too bad. And my undying gratitude to Chase for being the beta reader of this story. Oh, and from now on, visions and dreams and such will be in bold and italics, and thoughts and disembodied voices will be in plain italics.

Chapter 29 – A Future for You and Me

* * *

"Jessica… how are you here?" Sam said, not quite willing to believe it was really her. _You loved her, more than life itself you thought, _a small voice whispered in his ear. Jess's smile never left her face. 

"I was brought here to show you…" Her smile changed, becoming sad.

"Show… show me what?" Sam asked, wiping his eyes. It couldn't be her. And yet she seemed so real; so… alive. A small tear trailed down Jessica's cheek, and Sam reached forward to wipe it away. When his hand was a mere inch from her face, she screamed in pain. He pulled his hand back in shock, and the next thing he knew, flames leapt up around Jessica.

"No…" Sam closed his eyes, backing away. "I'm not afraid of this anymore!" he shouted defiantly, a look of fierce determination in his eyes as he opened them again. Jessica's screams filled his ears, and then he saw someone behind her.

"Dean," he gasped. Jessica seemed to fade slightly; she was still there, still burning, but it was like she had lost her importance._ He's your brother… the one who protects you._ That small voice again, it kept telling him what he already knew. Sam glanced momentarily at Jess. She was in pain, still burning, but her body seemed unaffected by the flames. Sam looked back at Dean, who gave him a sad smile.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," his older brother said. That sad look that had graced Jessica's face now reached Dean's. Sam gave his brother a confused look. Then, almost faster then Sam thought was possible, Dean leapt forward, shoving him to the ground. Before Sam could so much as think, a gun shot sounded, the loud _bang_ bouncing off the walls of the room. Dean's body gave a sudden jerk, and he let out a short, strangled gasp as blood began pouring out of the small hole the bullet had made in his chest. Sam's eyes widened in horror.

"Dean!" he shouted, pushing himself to his feet even as his brother collapsed forward, dead before his face hit the ground. Sam froze, staring down at his brother as a small puddle of blood slowly expanded beneath him.

_He always protected you. He always held your life in higher regard than his own._ Sam tried to ignore the voice. The next thing he knew, he was seeing his Dad, seeing him dying at the hands of the same demon that killed his Mum and Jessica. And then Rebecca back at St Louis being killed by the shapeshifter. On and on it went.

_Everyone you care about, everyone you love…_ Sam's whole body shook with emotion. _They're all dead. Anyone you care about, they all get hurt… they all die._

* * *

Haley looked at Elise, confused. "How'd you get here?" she asked, not quite sure what to make of this change of events. Elise fixed Haley with a cold, hard stare that made Haley take a step back. 

"You think you can just drop into my life?" Elise snapped. "I wasted nineteen years looking for you, and then when I finally give up and accept that you're not worth the trouble, you show up on my doorstep and expect me to drop everything?"

"Wh- What?" Haley gasped, taking another involuntary step back. _She doesn't want you, _a small voice whispered in her ear. _She doesn't care about you, she probably never did._

"I had a life, you know?" Elise snapped, taking a step toward Haley. "A life, and a boyfriend, and God knows what else before you stole that all away from me!"

"I… I-"

"Oh, just shut up!" Elise shouted, glaring at Haley. Tears started to well up in the corners of the younger woman's eyes.

"No… I… I thought you…" she couldn't finish the sentence.

"Thought I what?" Elise asked. "Thought that I would just accept you back into my life after nineteen years? Thought I could actually give a damn that you were my daughter? Thought I actually cared about you?" She smiled coldly. "You're nothing but a useless, selfish brat. Would you stop crying already!" Haley was backing away, shaking her head at her mother.

"Please… please don't," she sobbed. She felt… strange… inside. She felt empty… her mother felt empty. _It's like you always feared. _Haley shook her head, covering her ears, trying to block out that voice. _She doesn't love you. Nobody loves you. You'll always be alone, apart from all the others. _Everyone she'd always loved and cared about, they were standing around her, all staring at her coldly, some not even bothering to look at her at all.

_What is a life alone? _the voice whispered, almost seductively. _Could you bear to live in a place where no one cares about you. Where no one loves you?_

"No…" Haley whispered softly, shaking her head. Before her eyes she saw a rope slowly lower itself from the ceiling. As one, everybody that stood around her took a step back. She shook all over as she stepped toward the rope, which was slowing tying itself into a noose.

* * *

Dean had backed all the way up against the wall in a matter of seconds as Alvira slowly tread toward him, her bare feet making not a sound on the wood-tile floor. Maybe not the smartest thing he could've done, but when he'd started backing up all that had mattered was putting as much distance between himself and the supposed-to-be-deceased vampire matriarch as possible. 

"You… you're dead," he said, his voice as unconvincing to himself as he guessed it was to Alvira. He kept at it anyway. "Sam… Sam staked you."

"Such mean lies you say to her," Alvira whispered. She sped up and was suddenly right in front of him. She took hold of him by the throat and lifted him about a foot off the ground (quite a remarkable feat, considering she looked like a breath of wind would knock her over) and slammed him against the wall once, before turning around and throwing him halfway across the room. He crashed to the floor and slid the rest of the way across the room, slamming into the other wall. "She doesn't like lies," Alvira said, smiling in that unnerving way she did, much the same way a child would smile when playing a game they enjoyed. Dean tried his best not to think about it that way.

She was practically right on top of him before he could even blink, hands pinning his wrists down on either side of his head, somehow positioning herself between his legs. He shook from head to toe as she leaned forward, and closed his eyes as she opened her mouth.

And something close to relief swam through him as he felt her tongue touch the side his neck, and then move up to his cheek, and then she was nibbling… he couldn't think playfully… at his ear.

_Of course, _Dean thought, shivering slightly as she closed her mouth around the top button of his shirt, s_exual desires first; dinner second_. A second later, the button came loose, and Alvira spat it out beside him.

"He's so sweet… she came upstairs and found a puppy for her own." Dean suppressed another shiver as she moved on to the next button, finishing it off the same way she had the first. "Can she keep him, mummy? Forever and ever." She kissed him on the cheek, despite his attempts to twist away from her. His mind was flooding with memories of the last time he'd been beneath Alvira. "He was a very bad boy at home… his friends came 'round to play." She giggled, she actually giggled, as she took the collar of his shirt in her teeth and somehow managed to pull it off enough to leave his shoulder bare. He squirmed beneath her slightly as she began kissing him again, starting at his neck and working down to his shoulder. "Bad puppy!" she snapped, fixing him with a glare. He stopped fidgeting almost immediately and laid still beneath her, breath short and shallow as he stared up at her with fear in his eyes.

* * *

Sam stumbled back, away from all his friends and family as each and every one of them felt the pain he had inflicted on them. He was crying; silent tears trailed down his cheeks as he stared at his brother's unmoving corpse, at Jessica screaming, at his Dad burning. They were all around him. 

_Stop fighting it, _the voice whispered. _Give in… you know it's true. Everyone would be so much safer if not for you._

"I hurt them," Sam whispered. "It's my fault they're all dying." He closed his eyes, falling to his hands and knees and sobbing quietly, trying to block out the screams of all the people he loved.

_It is… can you really stand by and let this happen? _the voice whispered. He opened his eyes and saw his Mum was standing in front of him, beside his crib. _From the beginning, anyone who's loved you, anyone who cared, they've been hurt._ Sam nodded. _You've been afraid of it for months… afraid to get close to someone, afraid you'd hurt them._

A gun appeared in front of Sam. His eyes widened, and he considered it, tears momentarily forgotten. It looked so familiar…

_Let it go. _He slowly closed his hand around the gun. _Finish it! _His heart pounded in his chest as he lifted it off the ground.

* * *

"The stars are out and the puppy wants to howl at the stars but they aren't listening to him… he cries something dreadful," she smiled madly down at him. "He stopped barking at home, she trained him to stop." Dean came to the conclusion that by home, she was referring to the mausoleum, or more, the chambers beneath the mausoleum where their last torture session had taken place. "She wants to take him home and make him food," she said. "Like she did before." She licked her lips, leaning down and opening her mouth, her canines becoming elongated and her teeth sharpening and shrinking slightly. Dean whimpered and closed his eyes as she came ever closer. 

_You're helpless, just like before, you can't save yourself… _a small voice whispered persuasively. _She's going to kill you. She's going to sire you. And Sam won't save you. _Dean gave another small whimper.

"Mine… all mine… so helpless." Alvira seemed to enjoy tormenting him. Her fangs had to be, what, an inch from his neck? Her last word seemed to break through the cocoon of fear that had wrapped itself around Dean's brain. Helpless. "Like before."

"Not quite," Dean said, the fear vanishing from his eyes to be replaced by determination. He brought one leg up, swung it over Alvira's back, and jerked it forward. She gasped in shock, obviously not expecting him to be able to fight back. Also the small crack that came from her back might've had something to do with it.

Dean felt the hold on his wrists lessen just enough. Using mostly his hold on Alvira as leverage, he pushed with his arms and pulled with his leg, flipping the two of them over. She was so shocked that she let go of him.

He rolled over again, off of her and pulled himself into a crouch. He didn't give her a chance to recover. He took a swing at her and sent her sliding across the floor as his fist connected with her jaw.

"Looks like I'm not as helpless as you thought, hey?" he said, getting fully to his feet. Alvira looked up at him, bared her fangs, and leapt at him from the floor, hands outstretched-

Only to have the heel of Dean's foot meet her chest and send her flying back into the wall. Dean gave her a very un-Dean-like smile, and ran forward, throwing himself fully into the fight against his fears. They fought back, Alvira fought back, but Dean was filled with new resolve, and try as she might, Alvira couldn't get a hold on him. His fears couldn't hold onto him; he was fighting back and he was winning.

* * *

Sam shook visibly with anticipation and apprehension as he brought the gun ever closer to his head. His finger tightened on the trigger, ready to pull it the instant he'd lifted the gun into place. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something; it was just a flicker, golden blond hair, pale skin… it felt like it should mean something to Sam.

**_She shook all over as she stepped toward the rope, which was slowly tying itself into a noose._**

Sam stopped, shaking his head. He dropped the gun, reaching up to rub his forehead.

_**He squirmed beneath her slightly as she began kissing him again, starting at his neck and working down to his shoulder.**_

Sam gasped in pain, eyes squeezed shut. His hands shot out behind to keep him from falling flat on his back. He shook his head, trying to blot out the not-quite-pain that had sunk into his brain. It didn't work, and his eyes snapped wide open, going blank as a vision slid down in front of them like a curtain. The last thing he heard was the voice whispering in his ear: _Finish it!_

**_Sam walked into the living room, and saw the young boy sitting down at the coffee table, paper and crayons spread out across the small table in front of him. He smiled and went and knelt down beside him. The boy looked up as Sam came into his view._**

"**_Daddy!" he cried, jumping onto Sam and wrapping his arms around his neck. Sam fell backwards with a laugh, landing flat on his back with the four-year-old's arms wrapped lovingly around his throat._**

"**_Hey, Tommy," he said. "I wasn't gone that long was I?" He laughed when his son let go, sitting up straight on his chest, giving him an attempt at a serious look._**

"**_I counted to fifty really slow, just like you said," Tommy told his father proudly. "But you took longer," he said in as berating a tone a four-year-old could muster, which wasn't much of one, but Sam pretended to be nervous, like the boy who was sitting on his chest was his own father and not his son._**

"**_Well, I had to take a bit longer," Sam said, reaching into his pockets and taking out a small piece of candy. "I had to sneak this out of the kitchen passed Mummy," he said, holding out the piece of candy to his son like a peace offering. The boy grinned in pleasant surprise and snatched the candy from his father's hand, unwrapping it as he climbed off Sam's chest. "Uh uh, what do you say?" Sam asked, holding onto Tommy's arm._**

**_The four-year-old turned to his father with a sheepish look on his face, and then a smile broke out on his face. "More candy, Daddy?" he asked. Sam chuckled, ruffling his son's hair as he propped himself up on his elbows._**

"**_You spend too much time with your uncle, y'know that?" he said. The sound of a throat being cleared reached his ears, and a broad smile reached his own lips as he looked over his shoulder. "You've been a terrible influence on my son, big brother," he said, seeing Dean standing in the doorway to the main hallway, a duffle bag over his shoulder. He reached up for Dean to help him to his feet._**

"**_Hey, kid's gotta learn from someone," said the older Winchester. "Hey, squirt, you keeping Daddy in line?" Dean asked, kneeling down in front of Tommy. Tommy nodded vigorously, and then launched himself at Dean, arms encircling his uncle's neck. "Whoa, there, have you gotten stronger since I saw you last?" Dean said with a smile, standing up and lifting the boy along with him._**

"_**Tommy, you be careful," Sam looked up as the voice came from the kitchen. "You wouldn't want to strangle uncle Dean before he has a chance to shower you with even more candy." The petit woman stepped out of the kitchen, her swollen stomach bulging under the blouse.**_

"_**Wow, Haley, you gain some wait while I was away?" Dean asked. The younger woman shook her head, a smile on her face as she reached up (and out; her stomach got in the way) to hug Dean.**_

"**_Good to see you again, too, Dean," she said._**

"**_So, how long?" the older Winchester asked._**

"**_Too long. If this baby gets any bigger my belly's going to explode." Haley said with a laugh._**

Sam didn't know when his eyes had filled with tears, but at some point during the visions they'd started leaking down his cheeks. He'd been fighting it for… how long? A week? More? It seemed like a life time. Ever since Haley had kissed him in that hospital, it was like she'd opened a flood gate that he couldn't get closed again.

_Finish it! _the spectre whispered in a commanding tone. It was as if, when the veil of the vision had lifted from his eyes, the veil the illusion had cast over him had lifted as well. He still saw it all, but everything was clear in his mind again. _End the pain and suffering._

"I will!" Sam said, taking up the gun and pointing it at his mother. The torment had begun with her; he was going to end it with her. He pulled the trigger before anyone could have a chance to react.

"No!" Mary, or the spectre, screamed, but it was too late. Before it could lift the illusion, the bullet hit its mark: right between the eyes.

She exploded in a burst of white light, shredding apart every other illusionary image as it expanded. Sam had to cover his eyes to shield them from the blinding light. After a few seconds, it faded, and he looked around to see that, aside from the fact the room was still dressed up and well furnished, the illusion seemed to be gone.

And then he saw her; a figure dressed in a white silk wedding dress, a white veil hiding her face. She seemed to be hovering slightly off the ground, waiting for him. He was compelled forward, reaching out and taking hold of the veil by the base of her head, lifting it away.

Haley gazed at him for a split second before falling forward into his arms, their lips meeting for the briefest moment…

…and then the illusion faded and Sam lowered Haley to the ground, breathing into her through the kiss. Then he pulled away, and began doing CPR.

"You're not leaving, Haley," he said, breathing into her, and then starting the process again. "Don't let it beat you." He breathed again, and this time filled the brief touching of lips with all the love he could feel. And again he started. "You're stronger than this, damn it!" Breathe. "You brought Dean _and _I back from the dead." Breathe. "Now let me return the favour!" Breathe. Cough. Sam pulled back as Haley took in a deep gulp of air. He waited about ten seconds to make sure she could breathe okay, and then he pulled her into a tight hug.

* * *

Alvira glared at Dean, a half-dazed half-mad look in her eyes. "Puppy's being… bad," she managed, before Dean punched her in the side of the face for the umpteenth time. 

"Too right, he is," he said to her. Deciding he'd proven that he was no longer afraid, he reached into his jacket for the stake he knew was tucked into an inside pocket, pulled it out. "Let me put this as simple as I can." He raised the stake. "Go. To. Hell. Bitch." And with that, he plunged the stake into her chest and withdrew it again in fast succession. Her eyes widened in shock for a split second, and then she vanished in a shower of ashes.

Dean felt the fog that had clouded his brain over the past few minutes lift as the ashes faded before they hit his jacket, and he looked around the room, remembering everything that had happened up until that moment, and what had happened before he had gotten stuck in the spectre's illusion. His moment of pride at having faced and conquered his fear was shattered when he remember Sam and Haley had probably also been trapped.

"Sam?" he called, running out the door he had been headed for right before the spectre had trapped him. He saw Haley locked in what could have been a strangle hold by Sam, except she seemed oddly comforted by it. Deciding they were both safe, he glanced around the room, his eyes falling on the body lying on the floor, a bullet hole right between his eyes. "Hey, guys, you'll never believe who our spectre was," he said. Sam finally seemed to realize Dean was there, and quickly let go of Haley, who was on her feet in an instant, realizing she'd been hugged by Sam. Dean shook his head at the two of them, and then nodded toward the body. "If you two are done being awkward…" he said. They turned to look at the body.

"The wimpy cop that met us out front earlier today?" Sam said incredulously. Dean nodded.

"Good thing we came here first," Dean said. "Or we probably would've been going after an innocent man." Sam shook his head, looking at the young man. Or… ancient spectre. Whatever it was now.

"Thank you," Haley said to Sam, giving him a grateful smile. "For saving me." Sam grinned.

"Anytime," he said. Haley gave a small laugh.

"I'm always thanking you two," she said, heading for the door, acting like she was complaining.

"Hey, you've saved our asses more than once, you know," Dean said, stepping around the body as he made to follow Haley.

"Yeah," Sam said. "You saved me from Heartsbane."

"And me from the Dream Leaper," Dean added.

"But Sam saved me from Heartsbane first," Haley said.

"What about me, I saved you from being burned to a crisp when you were twelve," Dean said, pretending to pout.

"Old news, Dean, keep up with times," Sam said with a laugh. They continued their 'Who saved who how many times' game all the way back out to the car, all of them barely able to talk from laughter by the time they had gotten there.

* * *

A/N: Okay, another chapter finished. I've got two transitional chapters planned out after this, then we'll be getting into (what I plan to be) the last part of the Heart of Gold story, followed by a two part epilogue. At least, that's the plan. But how often do my plans turn out? Lol. 


	31. Sex, Beer and Karaoke

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Elise and the town of Blackwood. No I do not own the song "Let's Make Love". It's sung by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. Normally, hehe.

Author's Note: Well, this was an interesting chapter to write, lol. I know it isn't that long, there just wasn't anything more to add to this bit (plus I had the next morning and so on planned for the next chapter).

Oh, and thank you Chase, I'm sure your beta reading has made this story a lot easier to read.

Review Answers: I should've answered some last chapter. Sorry if I miss anyone, I'm kind of lost with who I've already answered or not.

_Ghostwriter_: Thanks, I was worried about the length and where I stopped. Here's what's next... hehe, fun chapter to write.

_skycandygirl_: So you liked the premonition? I was hoping it wasn't going too far, but it answers everyone who ever asked if Haley was going to end up in a romantic entanglement (I like that word) with one of the brothers.

_Sagebeth_: Looks to me like there's a new reviewer in town. Okay, I'll stop that now. Glad you're liking what you've seen. Yes, as you no doubt know by now, there is going to be romance. John's appearance will be in a couple of chapters or so. And I was in shock by the season finale.

_mysterychic_: Oh good, someone commented on the car. Lol, glad (I have got to stop using that word!) you liked it.

_Robinisawesome_: I don't know if you meant the length of the story or the chapter. Either way, it's good to see that I'm not the only one who likes long stories (or chapters). Here's the one after the next one, lol.

_puplover77_: Good, good is good. And I'm pleased (must refrain from glad) you don't mind the longness.

Chapter 30 – Sex, Beer and Karaoke

* * *

"To us, the three best supernatural hunters in the state of Missouri, Wisconsin, and any other states we've helped people in." Dean raised his beer bottle, toasting their brilliance. Sam and Haley followed suit, and they clinked bottles, and then took a deep gulp of their drinks. 

"Not just the best…" Sam said. He was only near the bottom of his first bottle, but he was already starting to suffer some of its effects. "Better… much better, than anyone else, even… watsisname." Sam looked at Dean. "What's his name?"

"John?" Dean offered. Like Sam, he was still only on his first bottle. Unlike Sam, it took at least six before he started showing any side effects. Haley was on her second, and still completely sober.

"Yes, that's his name," Sam said. "We're all so much better than John Winchester." Haley raised her bottle.

"Hear hear," she agreed, and they clinked bottles. Dean didn't join in on this toast, which suited the two of them just fine. They linked arms and drank, though Sam very nearly tipped his own down the front of his shirt. Dean couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's fast-deteriorating awareness of the world around.

Haley looked up at the stage. The location of their small celebration was a karaoke bar they'd wandered into before their departure from Blackwood the next morning. There was a girl, actually, she looked a little too young to be in a bar like this, standing up doing a very good impression of a song Haley had never heard before.

"I used to come here all the time, especially after… Cassie died," she said. "There were days everything would just become… so hard to live with." She took another sip of her beer. "The owners may be enforcing the no-underage-drinking law with a vengeance, but they don't give a hoot who sings up there, so long as they've got talent," she said, looking up at the stage as the song began to come to a close. "I must've sung… hundreds of different songs before I left." She unconsciously rubbed her throat. The bruising had faded quickly, possibly an after effect to not being killed by her fear, but it was still a little raw. She turned to Sam with a playful expression on her face. "What do you say, Sammy? Care to come up and sing a duet with me?" she asked.

Sam gave a laugh, proof that he was still more or less coherent. "No, no karaoke for me," he said, suddenly sobering up a little. "Not now, not ever."

Dean leaned forward. "Another beer, he'll be up there with you," he whispered. Haley grinned, turning back to look at Sam, foot moving in rhythm with the next song as it started up.

Sure enough, one beer later and Sam was easily persuaded up to the karaoke stage. Haley picked up one microphone and handed it to Sam and then grabbed another for herself.

"Ready?" she asked. Sam grinned, a little awkwardly, but nodded. The music started up, and Haley looked at him with a playful smile on her face.

"**Baby I've been drifting away**

**Dreaming all day**

**Of holding you**

**Touching you**

**The only thing I want to do**

**Is be with you**

**As close to you**

**As I can be"**

Sam was shocked at how well she was fitting into the song, or for that matter how well the song seemed to fit her. She continued.

"**Let's make love**

**All night long**

**Until all our strength is gone**

**Hold on tight**

**Just let go**

**I want to feel you in my soul**

**Until the sun comes up**

**Let's make love"**

Sam took in a deep breath as his part came, and when he started singing, it didn't come out nearly as dreadful as he expected.

"**Do you know what you do to me?**

**Everything inside of me**

**Is wanting you**

**And needing you**

**I'm so in love with you**

**Look in my eyes**

**Let's get lost tonight**

**In each other"**

Haley rocked back and forth slightly in time with the music, and then raised the microphone to her lips again, and they sang together.

"**Let's make love**

**All night long**

**Until all our strength is gone**

**Hold on tight**

**Just let go**

**I want to feel you in my soul**

**Until the sun comes up**

**Let's make love"**

* * *

Sam pushed the door open… or maybe he knocked it off its hinges, he wasn't really sure which. It hadn't really been cooperative with his attempts at turning the door knob. Especially with Haley between him and the door, kissing his neck. She might've been kissing higher if she could reach any higher. She was on the tips of her toes, and still only just managed to reach his neck. 

Oh yeah, and they were both blind drunk, having gone on a drinking spree after their performance. And Haley had gotten herself into a drinking contest with Dean. And Sam had sat back and watched, drinking casually. He'd lost track of how many bottles he'd had at about midnight.

And then Dean had refused to drive them home, because he was too busy having three hookers hanging off of him. So they'd had to walk home.

Or more, Sam had stumbled and Haley had… done something close to hanging off of him, though she might've been supporting him.

And now they were locked in each other's arms, Sam leaning down so that Haley could kiss him in that unbelievably beautiful way she did, even drunk as a skunk. She pushed his jacket down off his shoulders, and he obligingly slid his arms out of the sleeves, wrapping them around her again less than a second later. The kiss got more heated as they crossed the living room (miraculously, they only bumped into the couch, and that was only fleetingly), and reached the bedroom. They pulled apart for just a moment so that Haley could remove her… everything. Sam followed suit, lifting his shirt over his head and unbuckling his jeans, making a few unsuccessful attempts before getting it right due to his drunkenness and the fact that he was in a hurry to get it done.

He'd barely finished before Haley threw her arms around him, pushing him back as she leaned up and kissed him again. Sam let himself get pushed, and fell back against the bed, head hitting the pillows. Haley crawled up ever so slightly so that their lips were level.

They kissed for a few minutes, savoring each other's tastes. Sam moaned in exasperated pleasure as her lips and tongue moved along his neck and to his chest, while one of his hands ran along her naked body, the other resting lightly on the back of her head as if holding her against him.

Haley loved the feel of his hand on her back, tracing along every curve, delicately applying pressure in all the right places that caused her heart to flutter and her mind to go wild.

Then she moved down ever so slightly, felt him hard beneath her, and a pleased smile reached her lips. The pleasure became pure bliss when he came into her. She straightened up, her legs straddling his as she rocked back and forth, her hands clutching at the sheets mercilessly as each stroke filled her with ecstasy.

"Haley…" Sam moaned, moving in the bed in time with Haley's body.

"Mm-hm?" Leaning back down, Haley planted a kiss on his chest.

"You're wonderful… drunk," Sam managed. Haley giggled. She didn't know how long they'd been going at it. It didn't seem that long, but then again, in the state the two of them were in, time had sort of… lost its use.

But after what seemed like hours, she reluctantly lifted herself off of him, letting him fall out of her, and then rolled over and collapsed beside him, her breathing deep and relaxed, shortened by the occasional ecstatic giggle.

"That was fun," she gasped through the heavy breathing and the uncontrollable giggles. Sam gave a small, somewhat childish giggle of his own, and leaned over, cupping her cheek with his hand. He kissed her, an enchanted grin on his lips, like for those few moments, there was no demon to hunt, there were no evil spirits or flaming deaths. There was no Dean or John or Jess or Mary or Cassie or Elise. There was just Sam and Haley, alone together in a world filled with sexual ecstasy and drink-induced splendor.

"You're pretty," he said, sounding more or less like he was five. Haley smiled, reaching up unsteadily and stroking his disheveled brown locks. Or, pulling his disheveled brown locks. It was hard for either of them to really tell if she was stroking him or her fingers were getting tangled in his hair. It didn't really seem long enough, though…

"Good night, Sam," she whispered breathily, snuggling up against his chest. He put an arm around her, a little protectively, a little possessively. Within seconds, the two of them had fallen into a deep, dream-filled slumber.

* * *

**A/N: So, what did you all think? Should I never try to write sex again? Lol, it's a definite possibility no matter what your answer is. But let's not talk about that. Please review, I like hearing from all you people (helps to confirm you haven't deserted me). Anyway, it hopefully won't take too long to write the next one (I've had it planned… pretty much since the 'Skin' chapters); it's gonna be fun, hehe.**


	32. Fun and Games

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Elise and the town of Blackwood.

Author's Note: What to say? Nothing. Thanks Chase. Nothing.

Reviews Answers:

_skycandygirl_: Yeah, glad I didn't totally fail at it (I'm far to critical of myself sometimes). And I figured, it didn't need to be too graphic, I'm only... still young. Anyway, glad you enjoyed, here's the next chapter.

_Ghostwriter_: Thanks. Here's another chapter.

_EmSyd_: Oh, new guy (or girl, can't really tell by your name, lol). Glad you liked the updates, here's another one to satisfy you, enjoy.

_puplover77_: Oh, such sweet things you say to me. I really don't deserve... oh, who am I kidding, of course I deserve it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Yeah, they're so... well, I don't want to use the word cute. But I just did, so who cares. Glad you liked, continue on if you liked it.

_erica222_: Thanks... Here's another one.

Chapter 31 – Fun and Games

* * *

The morning sunlight shining through the curtains was almost as bad as someone driving two hot pokers into Sam's eyes. He groaned, raising a hand to cover his eyes. Or tried to raise a hand. Something seemed to be holding it down. His eyes snapped open in momentary panic, which turned out to be the absolute worst thing he could've done, because his eyes opened directly to the intruding sunlight. 

He whimpered and closed his eyes tight, turning his head away. The sudden movement of his head sent a wave of dizziness through him that made him thankful he was still lying down.

But there was still the matter of whatever was pinning his arm down. He was trying not to think of what could be holding him down; actually, he was trying not to think, it made his head hurt beneath the foggy hangover that had descended upon it. He groaned, and felt movement on top of his arm.

"Sammy?" The voice was followed by a much softer, though by no means any less pained, groan. Sam's eyes opened more slowly this time, and he saw the golden-blonde hair and beautiful face of… Haley.

"Oh…" he said, a mixture of realization and pain dawned on him; the pain came from the sudden rush of thoughts to his foggy brain.

Haley's eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright. Then her hand went to her head as the room seemed to spin around her, and she fell backward onto the pillows.

"How much did we… drink last night?" she groaned.

"I don't know; it's all a blur of… music and alcohol and strange women hanging off of Dean." He closed his eyes, both of them forgetting for the moment that they'd woken up, completely naked, in the same bed. He sat up suddenly (but slowly, seeing what speeding movement had done to Haley), looked around the room and tried to ignore the feeling of vertigo he was hit with, especially since he was sitting down. He gave a small laugh, which turned into a whimper of pain as the sound ricocheted off the insides of his skull. "Guess who didn't come home last night," he said.

"Goldilocks," Haley said without missing a beat. "Baby Bear wanted to have some fun." She smiled at her poor attempt at humor. Sam smiled as well, closing his eyes and laying back down.

Only then did he remember the way he'd woken up. Reluctantly, he lifted the covers and glanced down.

"It's smaller then I would've thought," Haley said. Sam gave a startled jerk and dropped the covers, realizing that Haley had looked down as well.

"Do you mind?" he asked. "That's between me and my…" He decided that finishing that sentence would not be the right thing to do. Haley smiled and rolled over. Too far. Somehow, they'd managed to spend the night together in a single bed, or at least a bed that wasn't a double, and so when Haley rolled over…

"Ow," she groaned, looking up at Sam from the floor where she'd landed. "I think I hit my… body on something," she said. She climbed unsteadily to her feet, in full view of Sam's wide eyes and, to her sudden horror, the gaps in the curtains. She yelped when she realized and snatched the covers up off the bed, leaving Sam with a sheet as she wrapped the blanket around her body. Then she slowed down to let her brain catch up with her. "Okay, how about I just…" She blinked, trying to focus her vision. "Sam! Stop moving," she said, swaying slightly. "All three of you." These were not the normal signs of a hangover. Were they? It had been a while since her last hangover. Or maybe she just didn't really remember it. "Oh, I think I've got your hangover."

"But it's mine, you can't… Ow," Sam said, putting his hand to his head, frustrated by the loudness of his own voice.

"I mean… oh, forget it," Haley said, moving towards the bathroom. "If and when Dean comes home, tell him I hope his hookers were worth making us walk home," she said, before closing the door quietly behind her. Sam smiled, and sat up. He winced when that put him in direct view of the sunlight. He closed his eyes and turned away, rolling out of bed. He walked around the beam of light, and closed the curtains all the way, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

He sighed with relief, before gazing around the room in search of his clothes. He must have thrown them after removing them, because his jacket and shirt were hanging over one of the chairs, his belt had found its way under Dean's bed, his jeans looked like they were trying to get under the bathroom door, and his shoes were at separate ends of the room.

He shook his head as he retrieved each piece of clothing, and then pulled them on, somewhat awkwardly, before walking over to the kitchen bench and setting about making some coffee. It couldn't hurt, right?

He looked up as the motel room door opened and Dean stumbled in. He took one look at Sam's amused face and almost-open mouth and cut across his younger brother before he could speak.

"One word, even a chuckle, and you will die. Painfully," he added. Sam held up his hands in defense, like he hadn't been about to make a crack on the state Dean was in. Not much better than he and Haley had been a few minutes earlier. "Is that coffee?" Dean asked as he collapsed onto the bed.

"Yeah, want some?" Sam asked.

"Just come over here and pour it over my face." Sam suppressed a laugh, and finished making the coffee, filling three mugs, setting one down on the bedside table beside Dean's bed, putting one on the table, and taking the third for himself.

Haley chose that moment to come out of the bathroom, still holding the blanket around her, with a towel wrapped around her damp hair. She glanced over at the older Winchester. "Is _that_ Dean?"

"It used to be," Sam said, nodding in a mock-sympathetic way, and looking like he was trying not to laugh.

"That's really funny, Sam," Dean said, rolling onto his side and staring at the two hangover victims. "Care to say that again?" he asked in the most threatening tone he could muster, which, in his state, was not much of one.

"No, not really," Sam said in an innocent tone. There were a few minutes of awkward silence in which the loudest noise was the sound of Sam sipping his coffee. Then Haley took a big gulp of hers, gave a deep shudder, and grabbed her clothes, taking them into the bathroom and leaving the blanket outside, closing the door too quickly for either Dean or Sam to catch a glimpse of her without it.

She came back out a few minutes later dressed in a tight, black tube top, black leather pants, and black boots. "I'm going out," she said. She grabbed her purse, and was out the door before they could so much as say goodbye to her.

She was gone for about thirty seconds when Dean spoke up. "I can't believe you slept with Haley." Sam almost choked in his coffee, dropping the mug onto the table. Thankfully, he didn't spill any of it. He turned to look directly at his brother.

"How'd you know?" he asked hoarsely, still choking on the coffee.

"Sam, come on, the sexual tension in this room is so thick you could cut it with a knife," Dean said, rubbing his eyes and giving a yawn. "Was it good?" he asked in a far too innocent tone. Sam shot his brother a shocked look, which was returned with an innocent smile. Sam rolled his eyes.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" he said.

"I like to think so," Dean said. He leaned back, resting his head on the pillows and closing his eyes. "S'bout time you got laid." Sam's eyes went wide as saucers and he looked over at his brother.

"I have had sex before, you know," he said. "I… we were drunk. Neither of us really… you wouldn't drive us home… and she kept… and when we got back we were-"

"Holy shit, Sam," Dean said, sitting back up and giving his brother a not-quite-believing look. "You like her." His voice told Sam that he had no doubt in his mind. The younger Winchester stopped his ranting, shut his mouth, and stared at his brother for a long minute.

"Really?" he asked.

"Sam, it wouldn't be more obvious if you shouted it out the window," Dean said. "Don't do that, by the way," he added, like he really thought Sam would. Sam shook his head.

"Yeah, but it's not like she… I mean, do you think she…? Dean, I have no idea what to do about this," he said, holding his head in exasperation and an attempt to still the throbbing that small outburst had caused.

"Yeah, I got that," Dean said, rubbing his temples, suffering from… something. Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Yeah, well… okay, I'll…" Sam got to his feet. "I'm going for a walk," he said, pointing over his shoulder at the door.

"Good idea," Dean said as Sam reached the door. "Let me suffer in peace," he added, pulling the pillow over his head and burrowing his face into the mattress.

He was alone two-and-a-half minutes, three tops, when the door opened quietly and closed again. He heard footsteps, and the sound of the mattress springs shifting beneath someone's weight. Someone was either sitting or laying on Sam's bed.

He lifted the pillow a little, looking out from beneath it. Sam was sitting on the bed next to him looking at him with an expectant look on his face, his hands folded calmly in his lap.

"I knew I was handsome, but am I really that fascinating?" Dean asked. Sam blinked, and seemed to realize he'd been staring, and looked away. "That was a long walk. I bet you made it all the way to the front desk before you decided to come back and visit your big brother before he died." He shook his head, not enjoying the way his body was punishing him for the large amount of alcohol he'd consumed the night before.

Sam laughed. And then fell into an awkward silence. Dean waited for a few seconds before propping himself up on his elbows. "Sam, as much as I'm enjoying this fun new hobby you've taken up, I'd like to see the inside of my eyelids, so if there's something you need, please tell me now," he said.

Sam stared at Dean for another long minute, and Dean almost pulled the pillow back down over his head, but Sam quickly jumped up and grabbed the pillow. "How do you do it?" he asked, not letting go of the pillow no matter how much Dean tugged at it.

"Do what?" Dean asked, his voice a little strained for the effort of trying to pull the pillow from his younger brother's hand.

"Get women to kiss you," Sam said, and Dean was so shocked by the question he let go of the pillow and Sam fell backwards with a yelp onto the floor. "How do you… well, last night there were, what? Three... four of them? They were practically worshipping the ground you walked on. How do you do it?"

Dean stared at his brother, not quite sure he had heard what he thought he'd heard. "You're serious, aren't you?" he asked. "You really want me to tell you how to make a woman want you?" He couldn't help but laugh, which quickly changed to a groan as pain filled his head.

"Well… you seem to do it so easily, and I always tend to… well… I always seem to make a fool of myself." His cheeks were flushed, and Dean smirked at his brother's embarrassment.

"You didn't seem too bad with Jessica when I met her," Dean said.

"Yeah, well… that was a year-and-a-half into the relationship," Sam responded. "It would've been two years if I hadn't spent the first half of the year stumbling out of her way every time she looked at me… and tripping over every other word when she talked to me… and-"

"Spare me the painful details," Dean said. He looked at his brother for another long minute, and saw the hopefulness in his brother's eyes. He wondered where Sam had gotten the impression that he was in any way good with women. Well, he had been making a few successes of late; but still…

"Please," Sam said. Dean considered his brother. Did he really want Haley that much? With a sigh, Dean nodded.

"Okay, fine," he said. "Just… later, I need to rest before my head pops off," he said. And with that, he laid his head down and snatched the pillow back from Sam, smoothing his throbbing head with it.

Sam's eyes lit up with his brother's agreement to help, and he was so grateful that he let Dean take the pillow back. "Thanks," he said quickly, before getting to his feet and heading towards the door.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of what to tell his brother in the afternoon. In truth, he was not looking forward to it; he had no idea how it was he attracted… well, got the attention of the women they came across. He tried to recall what had happened the night before. He recalled three or four - or was it five - women last night… that was about all he could recall… except they kept buying him drinks.

Not five minutes after Sam had left, the door opened again. Only this time, whoever did it did not seem too bothered with being quiet about it.

"Dean, I need your help."

"Oh boy," Dean muttered as Haley's voice reached his ears. He didn't have a chance to lift the pillow to look at her. She had pulled it out of his hands and dropped it on the floor beside his bed. He glared up at her. "If you're not about to bring in a very beautiful brunette, I'm not gonna be happy," he said. She smiled down at him.

"Sorry, no brunette's for you," Haley said. "You certainly had enough of them last night."

"Oh, everybody's rubbing that in, aren't they?" Dean groaned, trying to reach for the pillow, but Haley pulled it out of the way. "Let me guess… you're after a brunette of your very own? Puppy dog eyes, stands about six four, no singing talent whatsoever?" Haley looked away for a second. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, sighing and sitting up. He was just about to yell at her to leave him alone, when a better idea came to him, and he gave her an understanding smile. He hoped. He didn't use them too often.

"Yeah, okay… we kind of… made love… lots and lots of love… last night," Haley said. "At least, it was love to me, but I… well I don't know what it meant to Sam. I mean… it was probably just meaningless sex and, man, I can't get your hangover out of my head, how many drinks did you have?" She took a deep breath. "What do you think?" she asked. Dean sat there, pretending he was thinking hard about what she'd said when really he was formulating a plan. If the two of them insisted on putting him in the middle of the bizarre relationship they were trying to establish, then he could at least amuse himself a little.

"Well, let's start with your clothes," he said, looking her up and down. She looked down at the clothes she had chosen to wear earlier that morning.

"What's wrong with them?" she asked.

"Nothing," Dean said quickly, "If you were after me and not Sam, they'd work great. But you want Sam, so…" He tilted his head to one side, trying to recall what Jessica was wearing when he'd met her. He remembered, and decided that wouldn't work. "Do you have anything that isn't jet black?" he asked.

"Those clothes Rebecca gave me back at St Louis… oh, no, wait, that damn monster truck sprayed mud all over them; I chucked them out," she said. Dean nodded, and then smiled.

"Well, in that case, I guess we're going shopping." He lay back down as she got up. "Later… after my head stops throbbing," he added. Haley looked like she was about to argue, but must've thought better of it, for which Dean was thankful. He wasn't lying about the throbbing head.

* * *

"Dean, I feel like a dork," Sam said from inside the dressing room. 

"Hey, you said you wanted my help attracting Haley," Dean said, fighting to keep the amusement from his voice. So he'd brought Sam to the clothes store to see if he could find him something that better suited Haley's style. Or, that was what Sam thought anyway. "Now get out here so I can see you."

"I look like a dork," Sam said.

"Broken record, Sammy, get your ass out of that cubicle now!" Dean said forcefully. He heard the latch coming off and Sam pulled the door open, a somewhat sheepish look on his face. He was dressed in new black boots, black jeans, a really dark blue shirt, and an even darker blue leather jacket.

"Say it, come on, I know you're thinking it: I look strange," he said, holding his hands out in acceptance of the teasing he expected.

"No, I think you look really…" Dean tried to think of the words. "You look really… well, if you weren't my brother… I'd probably ask you out for a beer," he said. "Or coffee," he said quickly, remembering the night before. Sam sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Honestly, she'll probably love you the moment she lays eyes on you." Truth. Technically.

"Yeah… it's not that bad I suppose," Sam said. He closed the door and pulled the latch across again. He felt strange in the different clothing. Not uncomfortable; far from it. Just strange. _Would she really like me more? _He wondered. He didn't really think Haley was that shallow, but… well, you never know. And Dean had said he'd help him get her attention.

He shrugged off the jacket and hung it over the door holding the coat-hanger over for Dean to deal with. He did the same with the shirt, pants, and boots. All at different times of course; he wasn't going to stand there naked. He redressed into his own clothes as he took off the new ones, holding each of them over the door for Dean to take as he did.

He glanced at his watch as he pulled the latch across. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon. Dean said he had something to take care of at two o'clock. He figured he could go looking for Haley while Dean did whatever it was he had to do.

"Ready to go?" Sam asked his brother.

"You have to pay for these first," Dean said, handing his brother the clothes he had tried on.

"Wh- Me?" Sam asked.

"Hey, they're your clothes, it's not like you're renting them," Dean said with a shrug. "Now hurry up, I want to get something to eat that will actually make me feel like I've eaten," he said. Sam rolled his eyes, and with a sigh, took out one of the half-dozen fake credit cards he carried, walking up to the nearest isle to pay for his new clothes.

* * *

"You say I look beautiful and I'll kill you," Haley said as she opened the door to the dressing room. She wore a pale blue, light-weight, almost-translucent blouse, turquoise, form-fitting pants, shin-high black boots that were obviously not made for hunting, and a dark blue coat to keep her warm (considering she would freeze to death if she went out at night in her new clothes). 

"Okay, you look… attractive?" Dean offered. She narrowed her eyes at him, and then nodded as if satisfied, rotating slowly in front of the mirror to look at herself.

"And what makes you so sure that _Sam _is going to find me attractive?" she asked, still rotating.

"Oh, come on, you're… good looking, you're blonde, and for the first time in a long time, you're not dress to kill," he said. "What's not to love?" he asked.

"A great many things you don't want to know, I'm sure." She rubbed her head. "You're hiding something," she said matter-of-factly.

"I hide a lot of things," Dean shot back, just as matter-of-factly as Haley had been. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and turned back to Dean.

"Yeah, I know," she said. "It's amazing you don't cave under all those secrets rolling around in your head," she added absently. Dean gave her a shocked and somewhat nervous look.

"You can't… uh… you don't know those secrets, do you?" he asked. Haley chuckled, shaking her head.

"Empath, not telepath," she said. "I only feel emotions… I can't read actual thoughts." She went back to rubbing her head. "And being in this place isn't helping. There's so much frustration flooding this place; people waiting in line… well, that's about it, but there are a lot of them." She groaned. "It's almost as bad as your hang-"

"No!" Dean said. "You will go no further with that sentence; I never want to be reminded of that again," he said. Haley's eyebrow twitched, and she gave him a calculating look, before nodding absently and pulling the door closed so that she could get changed back into the clothes she was used to.

"So I really look attractive in these clothes?" she asked. No one had ever called her attractive in her life. There were those hormonal teenagers back in high school, but she didn't think that counted for much, considering they weren't interested in anything about her waist.

"Yes, Sam is going to feel like he died and went to heaven when he lays eyes on you," Dean said, as honestly as he could because he knew Haley would know if he lied.

Haley couldn't help but smile. As much as she had come to care about Sam as more than a friend, she had come to care about Dean as a brother. He was like the older brother she'd never wanted. But it felt nice to have one now.

She pulled on her clothes, and came out of the dressing room, clothes held in one arm. "Shall we?" she asked.

"By all means." Dean gestured to the isle.

* * *

Sam glanced nervously up and down the street. Dean had promised to send Haley this way at (he checked his watch) five minutes ago, and the younger Winchester was beginning to worry that his brother hadn't kept his promise, or worse, that she simply hadn't come. 

But worse than that, he was worried that she would show up. He had no idea what to say to her, what she would say to him, or whether she'd like his new attire, among a thousand other things that could go wrong with his date.

_Date, wow, _Sam thought, trying to think of something besides what could go wrong. _How long has it been since I've thought about a date with an actual person? _He looked up and down the street again, looking for any sign that Haley was or wasn't coming.

"My, my, don't you look…" Haley struggled to find the right words. Dean had warned her not to use the words cute or adorable when describing his brother. He hadn't told her that he had apparently gone shopping for a new wardrobe that same day. "Handsome," she finished. And she was being truthful. By now, Sam had turned around to see her, and his jaw dropped. He had expected to see her in her normal tank top and leather pants; not something that normal women wore.

"And you look… er…" He tried to remember what Dean had told him to say. Haley narrowed her eyes. "Attractive," he said. She smiled.

"So, what brings you here?" Haley asked, acting like she hadn't expected him. That was what Dean had told her to do. She figured Sam didn't like being set up, and she had no intention of ruining her chance at getting an actual date with Sam.

"Dean wanted me out of the motel room for a while; he said there was a restaurant down this way that I should take a look at." _Okay, that sounded a lot more subtle in my head,_ Sam thought. Haley narrowed her eyes again.

"Dean told _you_ that?" she asked. Sam frowned, wondering if he'd said something wrong. The young woman closed her eyes, a look of concentration on her face. Sam suddenly had a feeling he should be trying to do what Dean was so good at and bury his emotions somewhere not even Haley could find them.

Haley growled in frustration. "I can never read you," she muttered. "You're just a huge mess of conflicted emotions that never seem to sort themselves out." Sam held in the sigh of relief that was begging to be released. He had been afraid she'd find out how he really felt about her; wouldn't that have been hard to explain.

"Care to join me?" Sam asked, trying to sound like the thought had just occurred to him. Haley grinned.

"Love to," she said. They linked arms like they really were on a date, and walked down the side walk, looking just as much opposites now as they had the day before, with the exception that they also felt out of place in their new clothes.

"Colours suit you, y'know," Sam said. Haley grinned, her awkwardness deteriorating slightly. "Especially blue." Maybe she could get used to wearing colours again; she'd only stopped because they often stood out in the dark.

"What about you, you raid Dean's bag or something?" she asked, gesturing to the leather jacket. "Not that it doesn't look good." Sam gave a small laugh.

"No, Dean doesn't wear anything this new," Sam said. He smiled down at her, trying to say something other than how attractive her clothes made her.

They reached the restaurant, and were greeted by a middle aged man as they walked in.

"Excuse me, but would you be Mr. Winchester and Miss Evans?" he asked. Sam exchanged a look with Haley before turning back to the man.

"Yeah, that's us," he said.

"Oh, in that case, welcome to the Finesse Pâture," the man said. "Your reservation has already been paid for, please come this way."

"Whoa, wait, reservation?" he asked. "What reservation?" This was news to him, and judging from the look on Haley's face, she knew nothing about it either.

"Your reservation was booked not fifteen minutes ago, by, let me see…" He seemed to be trying to remember. "Aframian… yes, I believe it was Hector Aframian." Sam opened his mouth, but closed it again when the name rang a bell. "He said to give you this." The man handed Sam an envelope, which confirmed his guess when he saw his name written on the front of the envelope. He smiled in amusement, nodding slowly.

"Yeah, right, that reservation," he said. "Okay, lead the way," he said. The man led them to a table, and they each took a seat. As soon as they were left on their own, Haley leaned forward.

"Who the hell is Hector Aframian?" she asked.

"One of the names on Dean's credit cards," Sam said with a grin. He opened the envelope. "Am I the only one getting the feeling we've been set up?" he asked. Haley laughed, and shook her head.

"No, I think we have definitely been set up," she said, as Sam pulled the note out of the envelope and read it aloud to her.

_Hasn't this day just been so fun? I certainly enjoyed it. Hope you both wore your chosen attire. Yeah, I knew you'd love them. I'm sure you both have tons to talk about, like the whole "I look at you when you aren't looking at me" thing you two have got going._

_Enjoy your date, and try not to get drunk. You made a huge mess of the motel room last night that I now have to clean up. I'd rather not have a repeat experience tomorrow._

Sam couldn't help but laugh as he finished reading the letter. It wasn't signed, but they both knew all too well that Dean had been playing them all day.

"Well, that's certainly the last time I go to him for romance advice," Haley said with a laugh.

"You went to him as well?" Sam asked. His laughs suddenly became less enthusiastic and he cleared his throat, suddenly unsure what to say or do. "Haley, I want to talk about last night," he said. She leaned forward, giving him her full attention. He opened his mouth twice, closing it both times. "Don't do that, I get stage fright, or whatever it is off-stage," he said. Haley chuckled and sat back, looking at him but also looking around the room so he wouldn't feel as awkward.

"I don't regret it," Haley said before he could start. "Of course, I don't remember much, but I don't regret what I remember," she said. Sam smiled with relief.

"Me neither… for both of them," he said, and they shared a laugh at that. Their meal arrived, and they ate in silence for a while, neither willing to say something that might spoil the mood. Neither really willing to say anything at all, really.

"We'll have to show our gratitude to Dean in some way," Haley said suddenly, looking up from her food thoughtfully. A smile crept onto Sam's lips.

"Sounds interesting…" He leaned forward. "Do tell," he said.

* * *

Dean relaxed against the pillows of his bed, wondering how Sam and Haley's date was going. He couldn't help but feel pleased that he had brought them together, even if he'd done it for his own pleasure and not for their sake. 

He was just considering calling it a night when his mobile rang. Frowning, he walked over to the table and scooped it up.

"Daniel Walter speaking," he said, using the first two names that came to his head, since he didn't recognize the number.

"Hello, this is Agent Helen Eames," said a young female voice. "I'm looking for the owner of a black 1967 Chevy Impala, one Dean Winchester. I thought this was his mobile number."

"Oh, it is," Dean said. "Actually, he just came in; let me get him for you," he said. He walked to the door and pulled it open. "Hey Dean, someone's on the mobile for you," he called out. He took a few more steps, and then put the phone back to his ear. "Dean speaking," he said, his voice just a little deeper.

"Yes, Mr. Winchester. We've recovered your car about a mile out of town," the woman said, and Dean's heart leapt into his throat. "We have reason to believe it was stolen, and were wondering if you could come and see if you can ID the body in the front seat. He drove it over a ravine, so there isn't much left, but we are fairly sure it is yours."

"Yeah, sure I'll be right…" He realized he had no way to get there. "Wait, that was my only set of wheels, how am I going to get there?" he asked.

"We'll send a car to pick you up," said the woman. "He'll meet you out the front of the motel you're staying at."

"Okay, I'll be waiting," Dean said, and cut the connection, grabbing his jacket and rushing out the door.

* * *

Sam and Haley laughed as they saw Dean speed out the front door of the motel. They were watching from a coffee shop across the street, with a great deal of amusement, as Dean climbed into Elise's car. Haley was glad now that she'd never introduced her mother to Sam or Dean. It meant they didn't have to try and bribe someone to drive Dean out of town to where they'd taken the Impala. 

"You did really well," Sam said. "If I hadn't been looking at you, I'd have sworn that it was someone else talking to Dean. You really didn't sound like yourself."

"What can I say, I'm a woman of many talents," Haley said with a grin.

"Yeah, unfortunately, modesty ain't one of them," Sam said. Haley gave him a lock of mock-disbelief, before leaning over and kissing him lightly on the lips. His eyes went wide as amusement turned to surprise, and then pleasure as he kissed her back.

They pulled back after a few minutes. "That was fun," Sam said with a grin, exactly the way Haley had the night before after they'd made love. Haley gave a light laugh before getting to her feet.

"Come on, we can have a lot more fun up in the motel room while Dean's gone," she said. Sam smiled, shaking his head, before getting to his feet.

"I like the way you think," he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. He put an arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the coffee shop and headed for the motel across the road.

* * *

Dean got out of the car as fast as he could, not taking much notice of the fact that there were no police cars anywhere in sight. He closed the door quickly behind him as he raced down the path to the bottom of the ravine, and gasped, standing rooted to the spot in a complete state of shock. There waited his precious Impala, completely intact, having been driven there along an old dusty road. 

He started running again, as fast as his legs could carry him down to his car, and quickly gave it the once-over twice to make sure nothing was missing from the outside, and then opened the driver's seat to make sure everything was in place on the inside. Not only was everything in place, there was an envelope lying on the dashboard. Glaring at the envelope like it was the cause of his panic, he snatched it up, opened it, and pulled out the letter.

_Wasn't that fun? I certainly enjoyed it. Well, I'm sure you've got tons of stuff to do (like maybe burst a blood vessel, I'm sure you're absolutely fuming right now). Have fun with your 'date', 'Hector'._

Dean smiled despite himself, surprised and proud that his brother was capable of such an evil deed. He'd been worried Sam's darker side had been squashed out of him at college; it was good to see he still had it in him. Once he was done being proud, Dean had half a mind to go back to the motel and beat his brother black and blue.

"Okay, calm… breathe…" he looked around. "And stop talking to yourself," he added. "Now- Okay, this is just ridiculous." He shook his head and climbed into the car, figuring whoever Sam and Haley had gotten to bring him here was already long gone. He was thankful to find the keys still in the ignition.

He drove back to the motel as fast as he was legally allowed to, drove into the parking lot and parked right outside the room. He sat in the car for a few minutes, taking deep calming breaths. It wasn't that he was actually angry at his brother; he probably deserved some sort of payback for setting them both up, but still… to bring the Impala into it was a blow below the belt.

He got out of the car, walked up to the door, grabbed the door knob and turned it. It didn't budge. Frowning, he tried again, but it still refused to move. With a sigh of frustration, he let go and took out his mobile, dialing Sam's mobile number.

* * *

Haley gave just enough time to turn around and lock the door before she grabbed Sam by the front of his jacket and pulled him down so that his head was low enough for her to plant an extremely heated kiss right on his lips. She let go of his jacket and put her arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist. 

"Wait," he said, pulling back. Not very much, because Haley refused to let go of his neck. Not really liking being bent down, he lifted her up so that she was more or less sitting in his hands, her arms still around his neck for support. "We aren't going too fast are we?" he asked. "I don't want to rush into this and run out of heat by the third night," he added. Haley looked thoughtfully at him for a short moment, then shook her head.

"Never," she said, and pushed his head forward with her hand so that he was forced into another kiss.

It took them all of five minutes to get bored of kissing (though the furniture sure did suffer as Sam struggled to keep Haley off the ground), and Sam dropped Haley onto the bed and they set about hurriedly undressing each other.

They were just getting started when Sam's mobile rang inside his pants pocket. Without falling out of the rhythm they'd worked up to, Haley reached over to where his pants had been tossed (the bedside table) and pulled out the mobile, a somewhat blissfully crazed look in her eyes as she answered it.

"Sam Winchester's mobile," she said breathily. "He can't come to the phone right now due to…" She couldn't stop herself moaning in pleasure as Sam spilled into her. "… complicated circumstances."

"_Haley, why is the…_" Dean began, and then seemed to realize just why Sam couldn't come to the phone. "Oh, that is- Why the hell did you answer the phone?"

"Oh, hello Dean," Haley said, still rocking slowly back and forth on Sam. "Did you…" She took a minute for a proper breath of air. "Did you enjoy your surprise?"

"You're in there screwing my brother and you ask me… y'know what, forget it, I'll get my own room tonight," Dean said, and then he hung up. Haley smiled, and tossed the mobile aside so as to continue 'screwing his brother' as he had so kindly put it. She must've thrown it harder than she'd thought, because it slammed into the wall with a dull _thud_. Neither Sam nor Haley noticed.

* * *

A/N: Okay, abrupt ending, I know, but this became unexpectedly long (it was only supposed to be a few pages, like any of my other transitional chapters; it ended up at a grand total of eleven-and-a-half pages). But it was fun to write, if a little difficult at times. And so you all know, the last part, with more Sam/Haley sex, was completely unplanned, I never intended to write them that close again. But that rules out the window now. 

Please review, tell me how much you're enjoying this. Next few chapters are (hopefully) going to be the last major story for this… story, and then the epilogue. Sigh… so near the end, and yet so far.

Oh, and a small piece of trivia: Hector Aframian is actually one of the names Dean used; it was in the Pilot. I don't know how it was actually spelled, so I just spelled it how I hoped it was spelled.


	33. Empathic Evil

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley and Dethton.

Background: A few things I thought I should mention: both Scarecrow and Shadow have happened in this plot, if a little different because of Haley. I just didn't know how to write them. Just thought I'd point that out for the sake of the plot that'll be happening next chapter.

Review Answers:

_EmSyd _- Thanks, I'm guessing you liked it.

_puplover77_ - Yes, soon. A few more chapters... two or three... four if we're lucky. Then the epilogue's, and then it's over. But yes, onto a lighter subject, I'm glad you liked it, I couldn't resist having him call then, it seemed to fit so well.

_skycandygirl_ - You think so? Well, you're the reader, I'm just the guy who's entertaining you. Here's the next update.

_erica222_ - Good that long is good... lots of long lately. Too many L's, lol. Much too many. Anyway, here's the next update. soon enough for you?

_BridgetLynn_ - Thanks... I think. Yes, people are strange.

_Ghostwriter_ - Glad you liked.

Chapter 32 – Empathic Evil

* * *

Sam lovingly wrapped his arms around the woman sleeping next to him, still asleep himself. A smile played on his lips, like she had reached him in his dreams. Maybe she had. Two psychics having sex, who knows what could happen. 

He suddenly stiffened as his dreams shifted.

'…**she will walk amongst the dead, as evil stands beside her._' His lips weren't moving, but the voice that wasn't quite his voice seemed to fill the room. '_The blood of her heart will stain her hands, and the darkness shall feed upon it to rise from its bonds._'_**

Sam's eyes opened, blinking rapidly to the daylight that filled the room. He felt as though someone had just drilled a hole into his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the pain to the back of his mind. That wasn't a normal vision. _Are they ever?_ he suddenly thought. It was a memory, and it had been forced out of hibernation in his subconscious by the vision.

He tried to fit it in with the other memories. It was when he was being controlled by Heartsbane, he remembered that much. But the memories of that day were fractured at best, and it was hard to make sense of them. He remembered saying those words, sort of. From what he could recall, it was some kind of prophecy. But that was about as far as his recollection could take him.

"Sammy, stop thinking all serious-like," Haley whispered. "It's disturbing." Sam smiled and opened his yes, feeling Haley pushing as close to him as she could. He put an arm protectively around her, still smiling as he stroked her hair.

Haley's eyes opened when she realized where she was, only this time she smiled, leaning up and laying her head on his chest. "I can hear your heart beating," she said softly.

"Hey, love birds, mind unlocking the door?" Dean's voice came from the other side of the door. "Come on, it's ten freakin' thirty in the morning, I think I deserve to be let in now, don't I?"

"Ten thirty?" Haley echoed, sitting up. "Wow, what a sleep in." She stretched and yawned.

"Hello?" Dean's voice came again. "Guys?" A hint of concern had entered his voice.

"Yeah, coming, just give me a chance to get decent," Haley said. She looked around the room for something to put on, and settled for Sam's shirt, since it was the closest thing, plus it went all the way down to her thighs. She pulled it on and got to her feet, walking over to the door and unlocking it for Dean.

Sam watched distractedly, his thoughts once again drifting to the dream, and he wondered why Heartsbane had wanted Haley to hear those words.

"Sam, you planning on staying naked all day?" Dean asked. Sam blinked, looked down at himself, and saw the sheets just barely keeping him decent. He pulled them up further and glanced quickly around him, thankful that he saw his pants not far away. He reached over and picked them up, pulling them on under the sheet before getting up. He saw Haley wearing his new shirt, and frowned, before walking over to his bag and taking out a dull grey shirt and pulling it on. For a minute, he considered pulling on the leather jacket, but then changed his mind, and tucked it into his bag, pulling on a green hooded sweater instead.

"I guess that's my cue to get my own clothes," Haley said. She walked into the bathroom, taking her bag with her, and returned a few minutes later, dressed in a low-necked black blouse, a pair of plain black pants, and her new boots. She handed Sam his shirt, and then headed for the door. "I'll be back in a while, I have to say goodbye to Elise," she said. Sam looked up from what he was doing at those words.

"You're coming with us?" Sam asked, unable to keep the joy and excitement out of his voice. Haley smiled warmly at him, and nodded.

"How could I not?" she asked. "You don't have to look so surprised, you know."

"Yeah, I just… Well, I wasn't completely…" Sam kept trailing off.

"Sam, take your foot out of your mouth and kiss her already," Dean said without looking up from the newspapers he'd set out on the table in front of him, looking for their next job. Sam stood stock still for a second, unsure what to do. Haley helped him make up his mind by walking over to him and (with a little trouble) reaching up and kissing him.

Dean pretended not to look as his brother stood there kissing the young woman with a passion he hadn't known Sam was capable of. After a minute, he regretted putting the idea in his head.

"Guys, quit it. Kissing is one thing; tonguing each other's throats is something else," he said. The two reluctantly broke it off, and shot mirrored glares at Dean before pulling apart. Dean gave them a cocky smile, and then folded the newspaper. "I got our job," he said. "If you want a lift, we can leave town straight from your Mum's," he offered. Haley nodded.

"Sounds good," she said. "Explain the job after we leave; I'd rather not fall into seriousness until after I've said goodbye to Elise," she said.

* * *

The goodbyes Haley said to her mother were short and sweet. Elise accepted that, as much as her daughter wanted to stay, there was still a lot she had to take care of before she could finally settle down. They hugged, said their goodbyes, and then Sam, Dean and Haley were on the road again. 

To Haley's shock, Sam let her sit in the front seat, and he took the back. Dean, of course, got the driver's seat.

They'd been driving for about thirty minutes (well out of Blackwood by then) before Haley broached the subject of their newest job.

"What is it?" she asked. Dean pointed to his Dad's journal which was resting on the dashboard.

"Turn to the… third from last page I think," he said. Haley opened the journal to the page Dean had told her. In the back, Sam's brow was furrowed.

"Isn't that the page on-"

"Psychic vampires," Haley finished for him, scanning the page. "I thought they were only a legend. Then again, the same goes for Bloody Mary, the Hook Man and Pagan Gods," she said, looking up from the page for a second. Sam gave a quiet laugh behind her, leaning forward to look at the page as well.

"Yeah, I think we might have one a few towns away," Dean said. "'S called Dethton. I think the psi-vamp's turned it into his own little take-out store."

* * *

It took them almost all day to reach Dethton, so the sun was starting to set by the time they reached it. They found a sleazy motel on the edge of town, paid for a room, and quickly moved all their stuff in. 

"You learned all you can from the journal yet?" Dean asked, looking over at Haley. She nodded slowly without looking up.

"More or less," she said. "A psychic vampire is actually nothing like a real vampire," she explained. "They don't feed on blood, so they don't need fangs; what they do is… actually, in many ways, far worse…" She looked up. "Especially if you've still got any residual feelings about Alvira hidden somewhere in there," she said to Dean. Dean looked at her for a long minute, before shaking his head.

"Nope, nada, Alvira is in the past," he said. "That's where she belongs," he added. Haley nodded, content with the feeling of complete honesty she felt from him. "So, what do they do?" Dean asked.

"They torment their victims. Torture them… endlessly… for hours, even… days, sometimes," Haley said. Sam and Dean both gave her a confused look. "Psychic vampires are empathic," she explained, and their confusion turned to involuntary shudders. "They torture their victims so that they can… feed on the energy of their emotions, such as fear, anger, grief…" Haley frowned. "According to your Dad's journal, they're normally psychics, who, in life, were ridiculed, disrespected, even punished, for their gifts. So in death, they rise again to use their gifts for evil," she said. "Any questions class?" she asked.

"Yeah, one…" Dean said. "How do we kill it?" he asked.

"Well, stakes won't work. Neither will sunlight," Haley said. "The only sure-fire way to kill a psi-vamp is to behead it," she said. Sam frowned, nodding as if he expected it.

"Of course… it can never be easy, can it?" he asked.

"No," Dean and Haley said at the same time, shaking their heads.

"So, anything else… sleeping habits, hunting patterns?" Dean asked as he cleared his throat.

"It says they normally hunt at night… of course, what self-respecting demon would hunt during the day when it's easier for us… and that they normally hang around the same area for months, if not years, feeding on the inhabitants one by one." Haley looked over at Sam, who had taken out his laptop.

"I'll see if I can find out where the most people have disappeared lately," he said. Dean and Haley nodded.

"Okay, well, I'll go out and get some dinner," Dean said. "Haley, you're staying here this time; I don't want you running into anymore long, lost family members," he said. Haley looked at him seriously and had a hard time determining whether he was being serious or not. "Just stay here with Sam," he said. Haley grinned and nodded. Dean grabbed his car keys and headed out. "Get ready while I'm gone; we're going after this thing tonight," he called over his shoulder. Haley's grin got a little bigger.

"Yay, it's been a while since I've been able to use a machete," she said.

"You've used a machete?" Sam asked incredulously, looking up from his research.

"No… I was never allowed." Haley scowled. "But I learnt how," she added.

"And tell me why we should allow you to?" Sam asked. Haley looked over at him, a slightly unnerving smile on her face.

"Do you ever want to have sex with me again?" she asked.

"Oh, using sex as a bargaining tool?" Sam said. "So very low." He reached forward and pulled her onto his lap. "I suppose I can let you use the machete, just this once," he said, before kissing her. She pulled back after a minute.

"You should get back to researching," she said.

* * *

Sam found the area of the town where the psi-vamp was chowing down, and after a couple of hours sleep, they all got up and Dean drove them over to the other side of the town where the vampire seemed to have set up its home. 

All three of them had some form of beheading-capable weapon (true to his word, Sam had let Haley use his machete, and taken a long sword instead), and right at that moment, they were waiting by the car for the vampire to show its face.

"Okay, are any of us feeling any sort of emotion the psi-vamp can feed on?" Haley asked, looking from one brother to the other and back again. Fear, anger, even the slightest worry, could alert it to where we are." Both Sam and Dean seemed to think for a minute.

"No, I'm clear," Dean said. Haley narrowed her eyes, and, as he'd said, got nothing from him that indicated he was afraid. She seriously doubted that was true; Dean was just good at hiding what he felt, even from an empath.

"Sam?" she asked, looking to the younger brother. He shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said. Haley tried to scan him as well, but as always came up against an ocean of confliction. She hadn't thought it was possible for someone to feel that much at once; she only hoped it was her and not Sam that was feeling it all.

"Let's go," she said, and they split up, going in three separate directions. Maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do, but they had to find the vamp quick before it found its next victim.

Haley swung the machete as she waited, looking up and down the street. Sam and Dean had both disappeared around corners, so she was pretty much on her own. She looked around wearily trying to see if she could locate the vampire with her empathy, considering they both had the gift.

Unfortunately, aside from recently having a vague idea of how to pinpoint where the emotions were coming from, she still really had no idea how empathy worked, so any emotions she felt could've been coming from anyone.

She opened her eyes, growling with frustration. She quickly released that frustration, remembering that the vampire could sense and feed on it.

She decided it would best to move in case she'd just given up her position. She was just heading back in the direction of the car when she heard the sound of metal against stone coming from Sam's direction. Her leisurely walk turned into a run, and she caught sight of Dean coming from the other direction, having heard the loud _clang _as well.

They both turned down the street Sam had gone down; the sword he'd been carrying was lying on the street, and Sam appeared to be locked in combat with a young woman with cascading black hair that stuck up at the front, and long claw-like finger nails.

The psi-vamp must've sensed Haley and Dean's approach; they'd both let their hold on their emotions go out the window when they thought Sam was in danger, so the vampire didn't even really have to try to sense them. It backhanded Sam with unexpected strength, sending him flying across the street.

"You should've left him when you had the chance," it said, turning to them. "Now you will all feed me." She ran at them, snatching up Sam's sword on her way. They were caught off guard for a split second before springing into action, both of them taking on the psi-vamp with their machetes. And it was a good thing there were two of them; its skill far surpassed both of them on their own, and they only just managed to match it together.

The fight didn't last long. It as good as ended when the psi-vamp kicked Dean in the stomach and then spun around, parrying Haley's swing one handed and then back handing the young woman.

Sam had recovered from the unexpected blow to his face by the psi-vamp, and rose to his feet, quickly taking in the situation. He saw Dean get kicked, and ran for his brother's fallen weapon, scooping it up and then lunging at the psi-vamp as it backhanded Haley.

It obviously sensed his anger and spun around, blocking his attack. It smiled, a cold, mocking smile, and went immediately onto the defensive, attacking him effectively and viciously, not giving him a single chance to do anything but defend.

_Since when are vampires so skilled at melee combat? _he thought to himself. For once, he was grateful for the seemingly endless hours of training his Dad had given him when he was younger. He'd probably have that sword through his chest by now if not for the training.

The only problem was, he was forced to fight with both hands to keep from having the machete wrenched from his grip every time he blocked an attack; the vampire had increased strength, like its bloodsucking relatives, and it was using that to its advantage, fighting only one handed. Then Sam realized something.

_It's toying with me,_ he thought. _It could've killed me a dozen times already. It's enjoying this. _The psi-vamp smiled, obviously aware of his realization. And suddenly her movements became far more fluent, fast, strong, and far more ferocious. Sam was suddenly fighting to even keep up with her, let alone defend himself against her flurry of attacks that seemed to come from all directions.

Its fist connected with his chest and sent him flying backwards into a wall. It smiled, apparently feeling the wave of fear that washed over him, and walked towards him, picking up his machete along the way. He stiffened trying to push away the fear that was building up inside him.

It stopped about a meter from him, its eyes going wide. Sam frowned, unsure what had caused its abrupt halt. Then he saw past it. Haley was on her feet behind it, a look of complete focus on her face, her breathing ragged as she tried to stay whole in the midst of all the emotions she was trying to pull into herself. Worries, fears, anger, pain. Anything and everything that people in their vicinity were feeling (whether they were sleeping or not), Haley was pulling into herself. The psi-vamp turned, a look of hunger on its eyes as it stared at Haley, having never sensed so much turmoil inside a single person. It never for a second suspected it was dealing with a fellow empath.

It moved toward her, seeming to glide as it started to feed on the emotions Haley was feeling, dropping the two weapons as it got closer. Almost immediately the effort of keeping a hold on herself in the midst of the sea of emotions became a lot more difficult as the psi-vamp sapped her of the energy emotions normally provided. Due to Haley's already near-exhaustion from the effort of staying in control, Haley collapsed to her knees as the psi-vamp reached her, now completely and totally entranced by the young woman.

It reached out and took her head in its hands, kneeling down in front of her. Haley screamed in pain; she felt like it was literally tearing the emotions out now. It leaned forward and kissed her, silencing her and at the same time pulling even more from her. Time seemed to slow down for Haley. Pain shot through her; her body felt like it was made of lead; she felt so tired. It would be so wonderful to just sleep. Her eyes started to close. Her hands, which up until that point had been trying to push the psi-vamp away, fell limply to her side. And one of them brushed the machete.

Her eyes widened as she was snapped back to reality, the dream-like state shattering. She closed her hand around the hilt of the weapon, and brought it up, diagonally driving it into the psi-vamp's chest. She winced as the blade sliced into her as it passed between them to penetrate its target's chest.

The psi-vamp shrieked in pain and fury and dropped her, staggering back, blood pouring from the wound (which shocked Haley; since when did vampires bleed?) and soaking the front of Haley's blouse as it did.

With pure rage on its face, the psi-vamp ripped the weapon from her chest, glaring down at Haley, who was lying on the ground, gasping for air as she let go of everything she'd been holding onto, and she once again felt only what was within a few meters of her.

"You'll pay for that," the psi-vamp snarled, but before it could start feeding on Haley again, it spun around, seeing Sam on his feet, Dean's machete in his hand. It looked from Sam, to Haley, and then back to Sam. With the still bleeding wound in its chest, it knew it wouldn't survive another fight with the young man. It gave a wicked smile, before turning and sprinting up the street. Sam took off after it, but had barely gone a few meters before he remembered Haley. He froze, looking back at the young woman lying on the ground. He looked back to the fleeing vampire.

"Sam… go after it!" Dean shouted. Sam looked at his brother, then back in the direction the psi-vamp had fled. With a cry of frustration, he ran to Haley's side. Dean closed his eyes in defeat; he should've known that Sam would put Haley before the psi-vamp. Up until Jessica had been killed, Sam had always put protecting good before destroying evil. That side of Sam had begun to shine through once more after he and Haley had saved Dean from Alvira.

Sam checked Haley's pulse, relieved to feel it beating beneath his fingers. She was pale, and her front was soaked in blood. He hoped that most of it was the psi-vamps and not hers.

"Dean, we need to get her back to the motel!" Sam shouted to his brother. He looked over his shoulder and saw Dean crawling over to them, still recovering to the blow to his stomach. There was a look of disappointment on his face; Sam knew he was less than pleased with Sam's decision to stay with Haley rather than finish the psi-vamp. But they would deal with that later, and he said as much to Dean.

"Yeah, okay," Dean said, and he helped Sam lift Haley off the ground. She hung limply in his arms as Sam carried her back to the car, with Dean a step or two in front of him. The older Winchester opened the back door of the car, and Sam climbed in, sliding to the other side and cradling Haley in his arms, ignoring the blood that was soaking his hands and sleeves as well as her chest. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, holding her close to him to reassure himself she was still okay.

* * *

**A/N: And so another chapter comes to a close. A few things I'd like to explain about the psychic vampire. First of all, I have no idea how much like my psychic vampire is compared to a real (you know what I mean) one. The internet was totally useless in getting information about them. Second of all, the bit where the psi-vamp kissed Haley was inspired by the scene in Elektra where Typhoid kisses Elektra. What can I say, I liked that scene, hehe. I like watching women kiss on TV. And I'll stop talking now.**


	34. Consequences

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley and Dethton.

Author's Note: Two chapters for y'all. Enjoy.

Background: A few things I thought I should mention: both Scarecrow and Shadow have happened in this plot, if a little different because of Haley. I just didn't know how to write them. Just thought I'd point that out for the sake of the plot that'll be happening next chapter.

Chapter 33 – Consequences

* * *

'…**she will walk amongst the dead, as evil stands beside her._' His voice echoed around him. '_The blood of her heart will stain her hands, and the darkness shall feed upon it to rise from its bonds._'_**

Sam blinked, and saw the damp wash cloth in his hand. He shook his head, and continued washing away the blood that covered Haley's chest, relieved to see the wound wasn't as bad as the blood had originally made it seem. She still seemed a bit pale, but that was probably because of emotional attack from the psi-vamp, and not from the sword wound she'd gotten when she stabbed the vampire.

"How is she?" Dean shocked him out of his daze, and he looked over his shoulder at his brother. He cleared his throat and turned back to Haley.

"She's… er, she'll be fine," he said. "She just needs some rest, I suppose." He gazed lovingly down at her, and a small smile touched her lips; she probably felt his love, even while she was asleep. That made him feel good; he could give her something to come back to.

"Dean, would you mind watching her for a while?" he asked. "There's something I need to look at." Dean gave him a questioning look. "Please," he added. Dean looked at him for a minute, and then nodded.

"Okay, you do what you need to do," Dean said. "I'll take care of this wound." He walked over and sat down, taking Sam's place and continuing washing away the blood.

Sam walked out of the bathroom, drying his hands on one of the towels as he went. He powered on his laptop and connected to the internet. Not really sure what he was doing, or why for that matter, he typed the first nine words he had spoken into the Google search engine.

He waited a few seconds, and then the links to a few different pages appeared on the screen. Biting his lower lip, Sam went to the first one, which had an exact match.

The website at first appeared to be nothing more than a black screen. Then words slowly began to appear, sending a chill down Sam's spine despite the fact he knew it was just computer animation. He looked at the header of the page.

"'The Heart of Gold Prophecy'," he said out-loud. He looked around the room, for some reason feeling ten-years-old again and being caught by his Dad sitting up late watching TV. But that feeling passed, and he turned his attention back to the website, where all the words had finished appearing, written in bright gold letters. He read the prophecy out-loud. "When moon and sun share the sky as one, and the day gives way to dark. The one who walks the line will rise, and step out of the shadows of others to walk the night. She will walk amongst the dead, as evil stands beside her. And the blood of her heart will stain her hands, and the darkness shall feed upon it to rise from its bonds." He felt his breath catch in his throat, for no reason he could think of.

He scrolled down, and found that the prophecy ended there. He stared at the screen for a whole minute before pressing the back button. He replaced the phrase from the prophecy with the words "heart of gold". Another few seconds of waiting, and then the search engine brought up ten different links for ten different subjects, none of which resembled what the prophecy described.

Frowning, he added "prophecy of," to the end, and hit the search button again. He hit the top link when it appeared. He was both intrigued and more than a little fearful of whatever it was his vision had unearthed. And the connection Heartsbane seemed to have believed it had with Haley.

"Hey Sam!" Sam gave a start as Dean called to him from the bathroom. Faster than he thought was necessary, Sam closed the internet window, and then looked over his shoulder as Dean came out of the bathroom. "Haley's awake," Dean said. Sam closed down the laptop and got to his feet, following Dean back into the bathroom.

"Haley, you feeling better?" he asked, kneeling down beside the bathtub where she was lying. She smiled at him, glancing down momentarily at her chest where a short gash cut across her right breast. She winced, and looked back up at Sam, giving him a small smile.

"I'll be fine," she said. She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip and rubbing her head.

"What is it?" Sam asked, worry seeping into his voice.

"Nothing… just a headache," she said. That didn't ease Sam's worries one bit.

"You haven't had a headache in ages," he said. She gave him an incredulous look.

"Not everything is supernatural-related, Sammy," she said.

"But-"

"Drop it, Sam!" Haley snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Argh," she groaned, putting a hand to her forehead.

"Haley!" Sam's worry immediately doubled, and Haley's eyes went wide as saucers.

"No, stop it!" she gasped, she pushed him back, getting to her feet. "Get…" She looked around, Sam and Dean both on their feet and standing back as she rotated on the spot, her eyes darting around the room.

"Haley…" Sam said softly. She looked at him, blinking, and whatever had happened seemed to pass, and she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and sobbing into his sweater. He put his arms around her, patting her lightly on the back while sending a questioning look in his brother's direction. Dean merely shrugged, as stunned by Haley's outburst as Sam was. "Come on, let's go get you some clothes," he said, remembering her blouse had gotten torn up by the machete. Haley looked up at him, and she barely seemed to recognize him.

"Sammy?" she whispered. He nodded, and she held onto him tighter. He looked over to Dean.

"_Call Dad,_" he mouthed at his brother. Their Dad had been in contact with Haley, had probably trained her; as much as he didn't want to admit it, he might be able to help her, or at least tell them what was wrong.

He took Haley out into the main room, and brought her to her bag. He went through it until he found something he thought suited her; a pale green tank top and a zip-up green hooded-shirt. He helped her put them on, and by the time they were done, she seemed to be completely over whatever had happened to her in the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what came over me." She looked at him, her eyes bloodshot from the non-stop tears she'd been shedding the last five minutes.

"Well, we'll find out," Sam said, sitting down on the bed with Haley sitting on his lap. He gently stroked her golden-blonde hair as she leaned against his chest, and a smile slowly crept onto her lips.

"How'd we do?" she asked.

"It got away," Sam said. He was not looking forward to this conversation. He knew before it had started that it was not going to end well. If only he'd known _how_ badly.

Haley looked up, a confused look on her face. "But… I thought you… weren't you going after it, right before I passed out?" she asked, getting to her feet, staring at him.

"Yeah…" Sam said, getting to his feet as well. He saw the way she looked up at him, and thought it might be best if he sat back down. He didn't want to seem like he was trying to intimidate her. "You… I didn't know how badly hurt you were. So I… uh…" He was shocked how intimidated _he_ suddenly felt by _her_.

"You let it go?" Haley asked, disbelief evident in her voice. "After all that, you let it escape?" Sam was suddenly reminded horrifyingly of his Dad, and the first time they'd fought a werewolf. The sun had risen, and the werewolf had been transformed back into a man. Against everything his father had taught him, Sam had let the man go.

"I… I had to make sure you were alright," Sam said pleadingly. _Pleadingly_, like he owed her an explanation.

"Dean could've done that," Haley said. "Sam, we went after that thing tonight to stop it killing again. Now…" She stopped. "Now it has a chance to kill again." Sam was sure she'd been going to say something else.

"Well, forgive me if your life means more to me than a stranger's," he said.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Haley snapped.

"You tell me," Sam said.

"Okay, that worries me," Haley said. Sam opened his mouth, but then closed it again, giving her a confused look. "Sam, what if it wasn't something we were fighting? What if it was someone we were protecting? Would you still rush to my side to protect me? Even if it cost a 'stranger'?" Sam almost thought she was saying it to hurt him.

He looked at his feet, unsure he could answer that question. Haley closed her eyes, getting the answer she'd expected and yet had been dreading. She turned away, not even willing to look at him.

"One day I could be all that stands between you and death," Sam said quietly, not looking up. Haley sighed, eyes still closed, head in her hands. She shook her head, turning back to look at him with tears in her eyes.

"And one day, I could be all that stands between you and someone else staying alive," she said. Sam looked up at that, shocked by what she'd said.

"Dad called back, he said he'd meet us at…" Dean looked at the two of them as he walked in. "I'm interrupting something, aren't I?" he asked.

"No, we're done, for now," Haley said. Sam shot her a questioning look, but she refused to meet his eyes, staring straight at Dean. "What was that about your Dad?" she asked, and both Sam and Dean caught the hint of worry in her voice. Sam was disgusted with himself when he felt mildly pleased. He was passed those feelings. Hell, he was in love with the woman. So why did he feel like he never wanted to look at her again?

"He actually called back," Dean said. "Believe it or not, he's in town." Sam's shock was evident on his face. "Yeah, he said he got a call from an old friend; told me he'd meet us at a diner down the road." He looked from Sam to Haley. "I take it one of you wants to stay behind?" he asked.

"I will!" Haley said quickly, not giving Sam a chance. "I'll stay here." She looked at Sam, as if daring him to object. He nodded after a moment.

"Okay, let's go," Sam said, turning to his brother. He grabbed his jacket as Dean opened the door, feeling a chill wind blow into the room. Dean took one last look at Haley, and then shrugged on his leather jacket and followed Sam outside.

"You want to tell me what the lovers' tiff was about?" Dean asked.

"You want me to punch you into next week?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean said innocently.

"There's your answer." They'd reached the Impala, and Sam climbed into the passenger's seat, while Dean walked around and got in the driver's seat. They drove to the diner John had told Dean he'd meet him at, but when they got there they saw no sign of him.

"You sure this is the right place?" Sam asked. Dean nodded, looking up and down the street. Sam was about to suggest they go to the next diner when he felt something tug on the hem of his jacket. He looked down and saw a boy of about eleven or twelve looking up at him.

"Excuse me," the boy said. He held out a piece of paper to Sam. "A tall man asked me to give this to you." Sam looked at the piece of paper, and carefully took it from the boy. "He gave me twenty for it," the boy said proudly. Sam smiled down at the boy, and then, feeling generous (which surprised him, considering his mood prior to that moment), he pulled out his wallet and gave the boy a few coins.

"Now you had better go find your mother before she gets worried," he said. The boy nodded, pocketing the change and running off. Dean was looking at him like he was crazed, and Sam rolled his eyes, unfolding the note.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Three letters, six digits," Sam said. "The location and combination of a post office box," he said, looking over at his brother. The older Winchester frowned, walked over and looked at the paper his brother was holding.

"That's Dad's handwriting," Dean said. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I know that," he said. "Come on; let's go check out this post office box," he said, and they got back in the car.

And so they found themselves at the post office, with Dean quickly putting in the combination. They opened the small compartment, and Sam pulled out the folded envelope. It was large and, judging by the thickness, quite full. Sam exchanged a look with his brother when he saw the initials on the front.

"J.W.," Sam said out loud back in the car. "You think… John Winchester?" he said, not really willing to believe it.

"You think?" Sam and Dean both gave a start at the voice, and Dean looked out his window to see their Dad, John Winchester, standing there looking at them.

"Dad?" Dean asked, not quite willing to believe it was him. John responded by opening the backseat door and climbing in.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, still slightly in shock by John's appearance.

"The same thing you are," the oldest Winchester answered. "I came here after that psi-vamp. I got a call from an old friend of mine about it; he said that it had grown too strong for any one man to handle it; said he needed my help to kill it."

"Yeah… we, uh, kind of fought it," Dean said. John looked both surprised and proud to hear that.

"You fought it? And you're both still here?" he asked. "Wow, that's… that's good news."

"We didn't kill it," Sam said quickly, not wanting to get praise for something they hadn't done; especially since, thanks to Haley, he was now feeling guilty about it. John gave him a puzzled look.

"You didn't?" he asked. He turned to Dean. "Why not?" The pride had vanished from his voice in an instant.

"I-" Sam started, but Dean cut across him.

"It beat us," Dean said. "Your friend was right, it was definitely too strong for one man; we had two men and a woman and it still beat us." Sam gave his brother a questioning look, which thankfully, John didn't see. Dean didn't respond; he just stared at his Dad, waiting for the lecture on how to fight or something along those lines.

It never came. "Understandable," John said. Dean blinked.

"I-I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"That psychic vampire's had a long time to build up for a fight," John said. "It's possible that even the three of _us_ together couldn't take it down." He turned to Dean. "Now, who's this woman you mentioned? She a hunter like us?"

"Dad, you don't need to pretend; we know," Sam said. John blinked.

"Know what?" he asked.

"That you trained Haley; that you sent her after us," Dean said. John frowned at Dean for a long minute, before nodding.

"I should've known you two would work it out," he said. He looked at the large envelope Dean still held in his hand. "I should probably take a look at that," he said, reaching over and taking the envelope from Dean's hand. He broke the seal, and pulled the top letter out. He scanned the page, reading the first bit out loud. "If you're reading this, that means I'm already dead." John sighed, recognizing that his friend had been killed. He kept reading in silence, leaving Sam and Dean to get a bit fidgety in the front waiting for John to tell them what was in the letter. "I don't believe it," John said. "I've been searching for these documents for years, and he's had 'em all along." He reached into an envelope and pulled out an old piece of parchment, examining it.

"What is it, Dad?" Dean asked. John looked up, as though he'd forgotten they were there. He sighed.

"Well, I knew I'd have to bring you into this someday," he said. "I'd just hoped… anyway, I guess there's no keeping it secret now."

"Keeping what a secret?" Sam asked, now getting a little worried. John leaned back in the back seat, and then pulled a piece of paper from a jacket pocket, handing it to Sam. The youngest Winchester unfolded it and examined it. His eyes went wide at the complexity of the document. Despite trying his hardest, he couldn't make sense of any of it. Save two words.

"Haley Evans." He looked up. "What's Haley have to do with this?" John sighed.

"Three years ago I came across a man, Steve Wilkins, who was… studying the demon."

"Studying?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Wilkins…" That name rang a bell in Dean's head. "Daniel Wilkins, wasn't he the guy who taught you all this hunting stuff?" Dean asked. John nodded.

"Yeah; Steve was his son, but he was more interested in studying than hunting," he said. "Anyway, Steve had come across some documents that explained the demon in great depths. I won't go into details, but this thing is… it's hundreds of years old. And up until a few centuries ago, it was among one of the most well-known and feared demons on the planet."

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"A man… He found some sort of… power… that allowed him to fight off the demon," he said. "They called it the-"

"Heart of Gold," Sam said suddenly, not a doubt in his mind he was right. Both John and Dean stared at him.

"How did you know about that?" John asked.

"What's Haley have to do with it?" Sam demanded, not giving his Dad an answer till he got his own. John stared at him for another minute before continuing.

"This man, he fought the demon, damn-near killed it, too. Probably would have if he hadn't been exhausted and killed himself," he said. "But the demon, it couldn't return to its former power; the Heart of Gold had weakened it to the point where it was barely alive. These days, it's nothing more than a parasite, feeding off of others… how, and why it goes after babies… I don't know" He shook his head, apparently at a loss.

"Energies…" Sam's eyes went wide.

"What?" John asked. He looked at his sons. "Do you know something?" he asked.

"Psychic energies are stronger than normal energies, right, Dad?" Sam asked. "Like… the energy projected and left behind by… say, visions, empathy, telekinesis?"

"Yeah, I guess," John said, eyeing his son. "What are you thinking?"

"Okay, this is going to sound strange but… I've been having… visions," Sam said. John frowned. "Visions that come true. And there was a boy… we met him a few months ago." He looked over at Dean, who nodded for him to continue. "His mum was killed the same way that…" he trailed off. "Anyway… so was Haley's sister."

"Yeah, I know that," John said.

"Well, this boy, Max… he had telekinesis," Sam said. "And Haley, as Dean probably told you, is empathic." He bit his lip. "I think… no, I'm almost positive… that this demon came after me that night…" he said, "because of what I was going to become. Because of my… visions." John stared at him. "And that's why it went after Max and Haley as well. It was feeding off the psychic energies that we… and most likely other children like us… were emitting."

John just sat there staring. Sam and Dean were at a loss as to what to do; John Winchester was never speechless, and least not in their memory. Then he chuckled.

"I've been hunting this thing for years; you're back in the game barely twelve months and you figure out what it's been after the entire time." There was pride in his voice that Sam had rarely heard the last few years before he'd left for college, and he gave a small smile.

"So, uh, back to this Heart of Gold thing," Sam said. "What does Haley have to do with-?" He stopped, feeling the beginning of a headache worming into his brain. He closed his eyes, putting a hand to his head as he tried to push back the pain.

"Argh." He opened his eyes, and they went blank as a vision took hold of him.

_**The room was a mess around her; it looked like a bomb had gone off in it. She looked around, slowly turning in a circle. Did she do this? Nothing seemed to make sense. She couldn't bear to look at it anymore. Everything hurt so much.**_

_**She turned and ran through the nearest door, which brought her to the bathroom, and face to face with her own reflection in the mirror. Her breath caught in her throat, and anger boiled up inside her, more anger than one person was capable of feeling. Her hands clenched into fists as she stared at the woman in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, tear-stained face, disheveled clothes. She let out a cry of frustration and her fist connected with the mirror, shattering it.**_

_**She cried out in pain and backed away sobbing, looking down at her bloodied fist and the bits of glass digging into it.**_

Sam gasped as the vision ended. He looked around. Dean was looking at him, concern etched into his features. John was staring wide-eyed. Sam ignored him for the moment. "We have to get back to the motel," he said, trying to ignore the residual pain from the beginning of the vision. "Now!" he shouted when Dean didn't immediately turn the car on.

"Whoa, slow down, what happened?" John asked. Dean, for once, did not obey his Dad's order, and turned the key in the ignition.

"It was a vision," Sam said, staring straight ahead. "I think Haley's in trouble." Dean slammed his foot down on the accelerator and they roared away from the post office in the direction of the motel.

Sam was out of the car almost before Dean had finished parking, and he all but kicked the door down because it didn't open fast enough; his eyes widened when he saw Haley, crouched down and leaning against the wall at the far end of the room, blood trickling from several small cuts on her hand, her eyes blank and staring.

"Haley!" He ran to her, kneeling down in front of her. "Haley. Haley, speak to me." She turned to him.

"Haley?" she said softly. She squinted at him, like she was having trouble seeing him. "Sam." She recognized him, and leaned into him, putting her arms around him and crying into his shoulder. "I can't shut them out. They- they're… all there, inside of me… in my head, and I- I don't know what to do."

Dean and John rushed into the room, and saw Sam and Haley over on the other side of the room. They exchanged a look.

"Who?" Sam asked. "Who's in your head?" He pushed her back so that she was looking into his eyes.

The answer she gave shocked him more than words could say: "Everyone."

* * *

Sam had given Haley a couple of the pills he'd used to use when the nightmares had overwhelmed him, and soon she fell into a fitful sleep. It seemed that even in her sleep she couldn't escape. Sam was having a hard time believing Haley was suddenly sensing every person, even in the town they were in, when just hours earlier she couldn't even sense Sam and Dean if they weren't within a dozen meters or so of her. 

But he had seen the pain in her eyes, and how taxing it all was on her mind. If it was as bad as she had made it out to be, he was surprised she hadn't cracked under the pressure yet.

"Explain to me exactly what happened last night," John said, looking at his sons. They were all sitting around the table, nearby in case Haley somehow fought off the effects of the pills and woke up.

"Well, we went out to find the psychic vampire," Sam said. "We split up. And it…" He laughed. "I guess I was worried about Haley, because it came straight at me. We fought, but it overpowered me and… uh…"

"Then Haley and I showed up," Dean said. "And we got it into a sword fight. It winded me and knocked Haley back."

"And then I fought it again," Sam said. "And it beat me… again." He frowned, trying to recall what happened next. "And it… it just lost interest in me. It turned around and went after Haley instead."

"And what happened then?" John asked. Sam tried to remember.

"She stabbed it," he said, remembering the gaping wound in its chest. "And, uh… oh yeah, it must've scratched her, or maybe the machete got too close, because she had a pretty nasty cut on her chest-"

"Wait," John said, holding up a hand. He had a thoughtful look on his face. "Was the vampire leaning over her when she stabbed it?" he asked. Sam tried to recall.

"Yeah, it was." He looked at his Dad. "Why?" he asked.

"Because psychic vampires bleed," John said, getting to his feet.

"So?" Dean asked. John got to his feet without answering and walked over to Haley. Sam suddenly thought he understood what his Dad was getting at. He just hoped he was wrong.

Unfortunately, he was dead-on. The scar that had taken the place of the large cut on Haley's chest looked older then Haley herself, like it had long since healed over. John glanced over his sons. "The vampire's blood's been mixed into hers," he said. He got to his feet, looking down at the small woman. "My guess is, because both Haley and the vampire are empathic, their mixed blood has caused an… increase in how far Haley's empathy can reach."

"How much of an increase?" Sam asked, worry seeping into his voice.

"My guess… she's reaching the town borders, if not further," John said. Sam's eyes widened. "And if we don't put a stop to it, she's not going to survive; the human brain isn't designed to feel that much."

"Well, then how do we stop it?" Sam asked. John frowned.

"I don't know," he said with a sigh. Then he looked up. "But I might know someone who does."

At that moment, John's mobile rang. He pulled it out, and looked at the number. With an amused smile, he answered it, much to Sam and Dean's surprise.

"I was just thinking about you," he said.

"_I know,_" Missouri said on the other end. "_I'm coming into town, would you mind meeting me?_" she asked.

"Okay, sure, how long will it take you to get here?" John asked.

"_About ten minutes,_" Missouri said. "_I'm already on the bus; I'm ten minutes from the stop at your end._"

"Oh, right," John said. "I should've known; you're always one step ahead of me. Okay, we'll swing by and meet you there."

"_See you then._" Missouri hung up.

"Who was that?" Sam asked.

"You boys remember Missouri don't you?" John asked. Dean frowned.

"Uh… short, dark skin, likes to hit me?" he asked. John laughed.

"Yeah, that'd be her," John said. "She's the person who might be able to help us. She said she's already on her way, we just need to go pick her up."

Sam nodded, heading for the door, but then he stopped, suddenly torn between going to meet Missouri and staying with Haley. Dean provided the solution.

"I'll stay here and watch her," Dean said. He could wait until the old psychic reached him to meet her again. Sam gave his brother a grateful smile.

"We'll take a cab then, in case you need to make a quick departure," John said. "Remember; as long as Haley's feeling all that, she's a giant beacon to the vampire. You need to be ready."

"I am," Dean said. John nodded, and then followed his younger son outside.

* * *

Luck was on their side and a taxi came to them on the first try. They climbed into the back, and told the driver where they wanted to go. He drove them to the bus stop, they paid the fare, and climbed out, looking around in the hopes of seeing Missouri. 

"John, Sam." They spun around and saw Missouri walking over to them, a large bag in one hand. They met her halfway, and she pulled Sam into a quick hug which he awkwardly returned, not used to people he'd only met once hugging him. "It's so good to see you again," the old psychic said, smiling at Sam. "And John, you too." She looked at them for a second. "How is she?" she asked.

"Honestly, we're not sure," Sam said. He looked down at Missouri. "We were hoping you could-" Missouri held her hand up, and he fell silent. She narrowed her eyes, looking at the two of them. "There's something… off," she said. "Not quite right."

"What? What do you mean?" Sam asked. Missouri held out her hand, palm facing toward Sam and John.

"Sam, call Dean," she said hurriedly. "Tell him to get Haley out of that motel room. I think your psi-vamp has come home to feed." That got Sam moving. He grabbed his mobile out of his pocket and dialed Dean's mobile number as fast as was humanly possible.

It rang four times before someone finally picked up.

"_Hello?_" Haley said from the other end.

"Haley? You're awake?" Sam asked.

"_Yeah…_" Haley said.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked.

"_We're in the car. He can't talk right now,_" Haley said. Sam relayed that to Missouri.

"Tell her to meet us at the bus stop," Missouri said. Sam relayed that to Haley.

"_It takes about, ten or fifteen minutes to get to the bus stop doesn't it?_" Haley asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "And Haley, be careful," he said.

"_Aren't I always?_" Haley asked. Sam grimaced.

"No," he said. He heard an amused laugh on the other end of the phone.

"_Don't worry, I'll try not to get into a fight while we're driving,_" Haley said. "_I'll see you._"

"Right." Sam hung up. He turned back to his Dad and Missouri. "They shouldn't be too long," he said. Missouri had a grave expression on her face. John's face was completely neutral, not giving away a thing. Sighing, Sam took a seat on a nearby bench. Missouri sat down beside him, but John remained standing. All they could do was wait for Dean and Haley to arrive.

* * *

Haley cut the connection, smiling down at the phone. "I'll see you very soon," she said. She opened the car door and climbed out, looking at the large warehouse she had arrived at. Satisfied with it, she turned back to the car and looked in through the driver's door. 

"Welcome to your new home, Dean," she said, her smile twisting into a sneer as she looked at the unconscious man in the passenger seat. Her smile returned as she walked around and pulled him out of the car, cradling him in both her arms and carrying him into the warehouse.

**

* * *

A/N: So, how do y'all like this little turn of events. Any of you see it coming? I hope not, I did my best not to give it away until the very end. Why not drop me a review and let me know what you think.**


	35. Bad Situations Get Worse

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley and Dethton.

Author's Note: Nothing to say. Thanks to Chase, without whom this story would never have been beta'd.

Chapter 34 – Bad Situations Get Worse

* * *

They waited for ten minutes. Ten minutes became fifteen. At twenty minutes, Sam tried to blame traffic on their delayed arrival. By the time half an hour had come and gone, Sam, John and Missouri were all convinced something had gone wrong. 

"Give them another call," John said. Sam was quick to obey, removing his phone from his pocket and dialling Dean's number. He let it ring out, but no answer came. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and looked hopelessly at John, who shrugged, apparently at a loss as to what to do.

"Should we go back to the motel? Maybe whatever was after them left some sort of trail," Sam suggested, looking from John to Missouri. After a minute, John nodded.

"Okay, let's go," John said. Missouri stood up, and they hailed a taxi, which took them straight to the motel. Sam followed his Dad and the old psychic to the room, and pushed the door open, getting a little anxious when he discovered it unlocked. He glanced at his Dad, who shrugged, before walking inside, looking around.

His anxiety didn't ease as they scanned the room (psychically by Missouri, as well as physically for any sign of a fight), and came up with nothing.

"Whatever did this, it was fast," John said. He looked around. "You sure there's nothing?" he asked, glancing over at Missouri. Missouri nodded.

"If there was something here, it knows how to cover its tracks," she said. She looked around, holding her hands out. Sam frowned, and then tried to do what she was doing. He'd been able to sense the poltergeist back at Lawrence, even after Missouri was sure it had been expelled from the house.

He held his hands slightly out in front of him, palms down like he was going to lay his hands on something. But his power didn't seem to get triggered by motions or gestures. It was passive, happening randomly and often he didn't realize it had happened until later. Except his visions. He always knew right away if he was going to get a vision.

He took in slow breaths. If ever there was a time to start learning how to use his powers at will, it was now. He tried calm. And then he screwed up his face in concentration, trying to will it to happen. When that didn't work, he tried what Missouri was doing again, holding his hands over things that seemed to have some sort of significance. He let out a long sigh when he got nothing.

John and Missouri had been watching with interest as the young psychic tried desperately to use his powers, to no avail. John was still not sure what to think about this; he was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that his younger son was changing, and possibly not for the better. The visions seemed to cause him pain, and that couldn't be a good sign.

* * *

The mobile was ringing. Loudly. Dean groaned; he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. "Sam, answer the damn phone." He expected the phone to stop ringing after that. It didn't. 

He opened his eyes in frustration, with the intention of giving whoever was calling an earful of unpleasantness. That thought fled from his mind when he realized his wrists were tied down to the arms of a chair. He was also tied to the chair at his ankles, arms and neck, which was causing him mild difficulty breathing when he tried to move.

"Hey, would anybody mind… er, explaining what's happening?" he shouted out to the surrounding darkness. People could never tie him up in a sunroom with the light pouring in from all directions, could they? It always had to be somewhere dank, dark, where they thought they had an advantage.

Someone started laughing; it was a girlish, unnerving laugh that sent shivers up Dean's spine. He tried to look around, tried to find the source of the laughter, but the rope around his neck made that action more difficult than it was worth, so he decided to stop.

"Did I miss a joke?" Dean asked, apprehension seeping into his voice. Whoever it was started laughing in a whole new way; they were amused now. He figured before she (he was guessing it was a she; certainly sounded like it) was just trying to scare him.

"You're the joke, Dean." The young mans' eyes widened at the voice, and he turned his head to look in the direction the voice had come from, wincing slightly as the sudden movement caused rope burn around his neck. He ignored it though, still wildly looking around for the young woman.

"Haley?" he said, his voice hoarse. He suddenly wondered how long he'd been out.

The young blonde walked into his line of sight, half hidden by the almost total lack of light. She'd changed out of the green clothes, going for a plain black blouse and tight black jeans. There was a cold smile on her face, and a strange hunger in her eyes that Dean couldn't make sense of. She licked her lips, closing her eyes as if savouring the taste of something.

"Fear…" she said, as if answering a question. "It's so sweet…" She took a step toward him, and he squirmed slightly against his bonds, and her smile broadened. "Apprehension is sweeter, though… like a treat before dinner." That made no sense to Dean for a minute, until he remembered what Haley was: an empath. An empath whose blood had been mixed with that of a psi-vamp.

Memories flooded back of those last few minutes he remembered before he woke up here. Haley had woken up, despite the pills, and had started screaming out for Sam. He'd tried to calm her down, and then she'd just stopped, like someone had flicked a switch. She became totally calm, and she'd just stared at him.

Whatever happened after that was foggy at best, but he could only assume she'd somehow knocked him out and brought him here.

Haley was watching him with mild amusement as he tried to piece together what was going on. He glanced up at her (which was something he was no used to doing; he wondered if she'd purposely chosen such a short chair), and saw the look of pleasure on her face as she watched him.

"Why?" Dean asked. She smiled while looking somewhat taken aback by the question.

"Why?" she echoed. "Why am I doing this?" she asked. "Why did I bring you here? Why haven't I killed you already?" Her smile became a lot colder, a lot more animal-like, and she leaned forward. "I want to make him suffer," she said, her smile twisting into a snarl. Dean had a sneaking feeling he knew who 'him' was. He just didn't understand what had brought on this sudden desire to hurt him.

Haley took a step back, a sly smile coming to her lips. "He hurt me… He shouldn't have crossed the line," she said, and Dean thought he saw real pain beneath the fury in her eyes. "Now I'm going to hurt him the same way." Her fist came at him so quick he didn't even have time to register what was happening until his head snapped back and crashed into the top of the chair. Dean let his head slump forward, wincing as his neck protested to the movement by filling him with pain.

"You think snapping my neck is going to hurt Sam?" he asked, glancing up without moving his head, which meant he could only just see her head. She shook her head in disappointment.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Dean," she said. She leaned forward again, putting her hands on his knees, coming so close their faces almost touched. "You're his Achilles heel, Dean. He'd walk into hell itself if it meant keeping you from harm." She smiled. "You're everything to him Dean; growing up you were both the father and mother he didn't have. You were his protector, his best friend and his hero all at the same time." Dean shivered as she ran a sharp fingernail down his cheek. "And it tears him up inside to see you get hurt." She stood back. "I ought to know; he almost killed me with all that pain when you were electrocuted." She grinned. "Oh, imagine the beautiful guilt he'll be flooded with when he sees the pains you've suffered because of him." She licked her lips in a hungry sort of way that was more than a little unnerving to Dean.

Before he could stop her, she took hold of him by the chin, and pressed her lips against his. His eyes widened, and she obviously sensed his surprise. She deepened the kiss, and it became more heated, and more fierce.

"Agh!" Dean winced as she pulled back, licking her lips. Right before she'd pulled away, she'd bitten into his lower lip, and there was now a small bubble of blood building up there. She reached down and wiped the blood away, smiling coldly at him.

"I'm going to destroy him, Dean," she said, turning away. "_You're _going to destroy him." And then she walked away, vanishing into the shadows.

* * *

John came back into the motel room. Missouri was sitting at the table, studying books on vampire lore (the internet was surprisingly lacking in info on psychic vampires). John looked around, but Sam wasn't in the room. 

"He still hasn't come out?" John asked Missouri, taking a seat and setting the bag of McDonalds down on the table. He glanced over at the bathroom door, which had been pulled closed and locked. Missouri shook her head with a sigh.

"Poor boy," she said. "He feels guilty about not being able to find them. It's like he thinks if he's by himself he can get something to happen." She looked sadly over at the door. John did the same, wondering what he could do for his son; from what Missouri had gleaned from his surface thoughts, Sam had fallen in love with Haley. Something that John had failed to foresee. This meant that Sam felt twice as guilty about not being able to find them; he felt he was failing his brother and his lover both.

"I suppose there's nothing we can do…" John said. "If Sam gets an idea in his head- especially if he feels guilty about it- an atomic bomb won't dislodge it." He glanced over at the door again.

Sam was listening to them, but at the same time their voices fell on deaf ears. All he saw and heard was his reflection in the broken mirror, and his own breathing. He glared at the fractured face that stared back at him. "What good are you?" he whispered angrily. "What good is having powers if you can't use them to save the people you love?" Before he knew what he was doing, his fist had connected with the mirror, dead-on where Haley had hit it earlier. He was sure Missouri and his Dad had heard the sound, but he didn't care. It felt good to hurt something, even if it was only a mirror; to him, he was hitting himself, through his reflection.

He blinked when his reflection (or what was left of it in the shattered mirror) seemed to shimmer.

He felt like something had tightened around his lungs, preventing him from taking in as much air as he needed. He frowned, looking at the mirror, and his eyes widened when he saw a trickle of blood coming down out of his nostril. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, he wasn't in the bathroom. He wasn't even in himself.

…**_He realized his wrists were tied down to the arms of a chair… someone started laughing; it was girlish, unnerving… he turned his head to look in the direction the voice had come from… her smile became a lot colder, a lot more animal-like… she took hold of him by the chin, and pressed her lips against his… she pulled back, licking her lips…_** "Haley?" Sam gasped. Her eyes opened wide as his voice filled her head…

…and he fell backwards into his Dad's arms just as the older man got into the bathroom, his lips and nostrils smeared with blood, his eyes half opened, and his breathing ragged as he tried to make sense of what had just happened, while at the same time trying to remain conscious. He lost that fight, his eyes closed, and he went limp in his Dad's arms.

* * *

She'd been going at it for a while. Not ten minutes after Haley had left him, Dean heard her starting to cry out. Then the crying became shrieks of pain and fury, followed closely by the sounds of things being tossed about; sometimes just crashing, sometimes breaking against the wall. 

"He wasn't supposed to know!" she shouted. "Not until I was ready!" Something sailed past Dean's head, a little too close for comfort. To tell the truth, seeing his captor suddenly go psychotic was a little disconcerting.

She stopped, her breath coming out in short pants, and then turned to look at him, her lips turning up in an unnerving smile that gave Dean the feeling he was about to get the blame for whatever had gone wrong. She walked away, and Dean heard the distinct sound of a knife being unsheathed. Haley returned, a long bladed knife (actually, it seemed almost large enough to be classified as a short sword) in her hand. He felt a small twinge of fear, but tried to push it away, tried to bury it, anything to stop her from locking onto it.

Too late. Her grin became a smile of satisfaction, and she sat down on his knees, holding the knife between them, blade pointing up. Dean looked down at the knife, and tried to laugh.

"Come on, I was tortured by a demented vampire who had more brains in her vagina than her head," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. "You think you're…" He glanced at the knife. "…scarier than her?" he finished.

Haley frowned for a minute, looking a little taken aback. Then she leaned forward, bringing the knife up so that it was applying just enough pressure against the side of his throat- where the two bite marks from Alvira were still slightly visible- to cause extreme discomfort without actually breaking the skin. Her smile was back, but there was something else to it now. A malice that hadn't been there before.

"No, I don't think I am…" she said. The knife moved. Dean bit back a whimper as the point brushed what remained of one of the holes, before settling with the point less then a millimetre from his Adam's apple. If he so much as twitched (hard, with the rope still holding his neck, but still) or if she leaned forward even a fraction, the knife would pierce his throat. "… I _know _I am," she finished.

She looked him in his eyes, and she saw the fear he was trying so hard to fight off... to not feel. Her eyes softened a fraction.

"It's okay to be afraid, Dean," she said, touching his face with her left hand, her right still holding the knife pointed at his throat. "Fear can save your life, you know," she continued, and then smiled mockingly. "Well, not _your _life. It's as good as sealed your fate." She moved so fast he that he didn't feel the shallow cut right across the bite marks until she'd pulled the knife back. A gasp of pain escaped his lips, but he bit down and didn't let anything else out, glaring at the young woman in front of him.

After a long minute, when Dean was sure he wouldn't cry out in pain if he opened his mouth, he spoke. "Dad won't let him come," he said, sounding more confident than he had any right to, considering the situation he was in. "As soon as they figure out what you're up to, Dad'll make sure Sam doesn't come."

"Oh, Sam already knows," Haley said. "He knows I'm hurting you." She set the knife down on the ground, and began unbuttoning his shirt. "And _you_ know that Sam _will_ come to save you, with Daddy's permission or not." She smiled as a fresh wave of fear washed over him. "I'm glad you've accepted it," she said. "It's not going to make it any easier, but at least you won't die believing something that isn't true." Her smile became a sneer when his eyes widened. "Oh, don't worry. I won't be killing you anytime soon," she said. She picked up the knife again. "Although…" she ran the knife along his bare chest, the cold steel sending shivers down his back, "… maybe that isn't a good thing… for you at least." She pulled the knife back and plunged it into him.

* * *

"Dean!" Sam cried as his eyes came open. He sat bolt upright, looking around for his brother. In an instant, John and Missouri were by his side. 

"Sam? You okay?" John asked.

"Dean's in trouble," Sam said, ignoring his Dad. "Haley has him. She's going to kill him." He looked at them like he only just realized they were there. "We have to go to him."

"Wait, Haley has him? What do you mean?" John asked.

"I… I don't know. She… there's something wrong with her… she was… angry… and hurting… and…" Sam put a hand to his head, feeling like someone had hit him with a blunt axe. "I think it has something to do with the psi-vamp's blood," he said, looking hopefully at Missouri and John, as if hoping they'd come up with a solution. The crestfallen look on his face when he realized they hadn't would have shattered a heart of stone.

"What else did you see?" John asked. Missouri shot him a look, but he ignored her. "A location? Landmarks? Noises? Anything?"

Sam wracked his brain, trying to think of something that could help. He slowly shook his head. "It was more like… I don't know, flashes, barely anything at all." He frowned. "It wasn't a… normal vision… I felt like I was actually seeing it from Dean's point of view, through his eyes." He looked at the older psychic. "What do you think?" he asked. Missouri had a thoughtful look on her face.

"Honestly… I don't know," she said, biting her lip. "What I do know is that we need to find out what's wrong with Haley, and then we need to find out how to make it right," she said. Sam wasn't listening though. He'd stopped listening as soon as Missouri had told him she didn't know. Now he was trying to think of a way to save his brother and change Haley back from whatever it was she had become.

"She wants me," he said after a moment. John and Missouri, who had been deep in conversation, suddenly looked over to the youngest Winchester.

"What?" John asked.

"That's why she's hurting him," Sam said, looking over at his Dad. "She wants to hurt me." John frowned, eyeing his son. Sam seemed pretty sure that his conclusion was the right one.

"What makes you so sure?" John asked. Sam shrugged; he didn't know what made him so sure.

"Call it intuition," he offered, giving John a hopeful look. The older man frowned, before nodding.

"Suppose you're right; what do we do?" Sam blinked, taken aback by the question. His Dad, asking for advice about hunting, from _him_? It took a few minutes for him to recover from the shock the question had hit him with.

"We call her," he said after a minute. "I think she knows I… was there." He remembered what his brief glimpse of the events that had taken place between Dean and Haley had been like. "She'll be waiting for us," he concluded. For a minute, he thought his Dad would disagree, or argue, or flat out object to the idea. Then the older man nodded.

"Okay, do it," John said. Missouri brought Sam's mobile over to him, and the young man dialled Dean's number, hoping Haley hadn't destroyed Dean's mobile (considering her history, he was afraid that was a possibility). He breathed a sigh of relief when it started ringing.

* * *

Dean felt like every bone in his body was broken. Which was possible. After she'd gotten bored with her little knife (which took what seemed like hours) Haley had taken out a crowbar and hit him in so many places it wasn't funny. Except his face. According to her, his face was "too pretty to damage too much." He was as of yet, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. 

"You know, if… being a hunter… falls through for you," Dean said, looking up at Haley with painful effort, "You'd do… well in a… torture chamber." Haley smiled at him, like he'd just complimented her. Maybe he had; he didn't know much about this new side of Haley. He didn't _want _to know her.

"You're so much fun, Dean…" she said. "Even more than Sam was in bed-"

"Okay, physical… torture is bad enough," Dean interrupted her. "Please cease with the verbal/mental torture," he said, glaring at her. She raised an eyebrow, then dropped her crowbar, apparently bored with that as well.

"As you wish… let's try something a little more painful then…" Dean suddenly regretted opening his mouth. He heard something behind him as Haley chose her next weapon of torture, and suddenly began wondering where she'd found the time to get it all, unless he'd been out cold longer than he thought.

The sound was much like a switch being flicked. The next sound was a whole lot more threatening; a spray can followed by the sound of raging flames. He swallowed hard as the flames ceased and Haley walked back around, looking a little giddy.

"Oh, that is just… so good, Dean." She licked her lips. "Keep it coming, it's beautiful." She held up the spray can, flicked the lighter so a small flame danced in front of the nozzle, and then pushed.

Dean pressed himself against the back of the chair as the fire rushed towards him, stopping barely an inch from his face. He was thankful for a few seconds, before he realized the flames were soaking up all the oxygen in the vicinity in front of his face, and all he was getting was a lung-full of hot air.

The sound of the mobile ringing reached his ears. He glanced over in the direction Haley had dropped it. After a moment, the flames ceased, and the young woman glared over in the same direction.

"Just when it was getting fun, too," she said, grinning as she watched Dean gasping for air as oxygen was returned to him. She walked over and picked up the phone, glancing at the caller ID. Her grin became a lot more twisted, and she answered it.

"Sammy? So good to hear from you again. Though I gotta admit, it certainly took you a lot longer than I thought it would," she said. "Dean's gone through hell and back waiting for his little brother to come rescue him. And just to make him wait longer, you call first to let us know you're coming. How considerate of you," she added in a mock-cheerful voice.

"_Where is he?_" Sam asked. "_Is he alive?_"

"Oh, the guilt is just swelling inside of you. I can feel it over the phone." Haley grinned. She walked over and picked up the knife. "Yes, he's alive. For now," she added menacingly. "Don't know how long that's gonna last though; after all, he's only human. And the human body can only take…" she stabbed the knife into Dean's thigh, and then held the phone out so that Sam could hear his cry of pain, "… so much," she finished. "Oh, I think I might've hit a bone… you might want to hurry up, Sammy. I don't think he's gonna last much longer without a hospital."

"_What do you want?_" Sam asked.

"Hmmm, what do I want…" She gave a small, mirthless laugh. "I want you, Sam. Dead." She smiled at the silence she was met with. "Be at the warehouse down by the docks in half an hour. And Sam, make sure you come alone, or John's going to have two dead sons before the night is over." With that, she hung up. "Wasn't that fun?" she asked Dean, pulling the knife out of his leg, bringing on another cry of pain, though it wasn't as loud as the first.

* * *

It took both John and Missouri to keep Sam from walking out of the motel room and going to Dean and Haley right after he had put down the phone. And even then, if he hadn't stopped struggling to go, they wouldn't have been able to stop him. 

"You can't just race off without even thinking it through, Sam," John said.

"I have thought it through," Sam said, getting to his feet. "I go, Dean lives; it's as simple as that."

"No, it is not as simple as that," John said, pushing his son back down into the chair. "You really think she'll just let him go if you give yourself up?" he asked. "As much as she may still look and sound like Haley, she thinks like a demon now."

"But she's still essentially Haley, and Haley never lies," Sam said. "At least, she never tells a complete lie."

"And you're willing to bet Dean's life on that?" John asked.

"Dad, if I don't go, she'll kill him," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"And if you do, she'll kill both of you." Sam opened his mouth, but John continued before he could speak. "I've already lost Dean; I won't lose you too," he said. Sam gave his Dad a challenging look.

"How're you gonna stop me?" he asked. He didn't expect his Dad to take out a pair of hand cuffs and clap one onto his left wrist and the other onto the chair. He blinked, staring at the cuffs for a moment as if he wasn't exactly sure what to make of them. He tried to lift his hand, but to his horror, the chair was bolted to the floor. He turned his stare on his Dad. "Please say you're joking," he said.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but I can't let you go to her," John said. "Missouri and I will go save Dean." Missouri gave a start, and turned to stare at the man. He ignored her. "We'll be back soon." He turned and walked away, leaving Sam pulling on the cuff like he couldn't quite believe it was there. Missouri sighed, and followed him.

"You can't be serious," Sam said, watching the two of them leaving. "Come on, you can't really be meaning to just leave me here." His voice had a hint of nervousness in it now. "Okay, I'll stay behind just… hey, are you guys even listening to me?"

He quickly came to the conclusion they weren't, because neither John nor Missouri returned. Grumbling, he sat down in the chair, and looked around, hoping to see something he could use to pick the lock on the handcuffs. Unfortunately, it looked like his Dad had cleaned the place out of any and all small metal objects that could be used as lock picks.

"I've gotta start carrying paper clips," he muttered, still looking around the room. He frowned when his gaze fell on a collection of tools. He arched an eyebrow. "Don't tell me…" He looked down at the nuts, bolts and screws holding the chair down. He allowed himself a mirthless chuckle when he came to the conclusion that his Dad had prepared for something like this to happen.

Sighing and rolling his head, he leaned back against the chair. If he was going to be there for a while, he might as well get comfortable. He closed his eyes…

…And opened them about five minutes later when the doorknob started swivelling. He sat up straighter, glaring at the door.

"It's locked, can't you tell?" he called. The doorknob stopped its quite vigorous attempt at leaping from the door, and Sam thought maybe whoever it was had decided to leave. His eyes went wide when someone kicked the door off its hinges. They went even wider when he saw who that someone was.

"Meg," he gasped. The young woman with her boy-short blonde hair and piercing brown eyes stepped into the room, a small smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hello, Sam," she said.

* * *

A/N: Okays, one of my second-favourite characters on Supernatural has finally stepped in. True, she's only said two words, but that's just this chapter. In the next chapter she'll get a lot more spotlight. Now, onto the subject of reviews. I like them. Give me more. Call it a favour to the author, because he's worked so hard on this story. And he's laying it on real thick. 


	36. There's a Bad Time for Everything

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley and Dethton.

Author's Note: No internet connection for almost a week has delayed this chapter (I had it finished the day the internet gave out, so I've been hanging on edge since then to post it). Big thankyous to Chase for being the beta reader of this story.

Review Answers: Whoops, forgot the last chapter.

_skycandygirl_ - Well, I'm good at it, lol. Yes, so far as I know, it's the psi-vamp's blood, but I think I have a further explanation in this chapter. I think, I can't be completely sure. Anyway, you'll find out about what Meg's up to in this chapter. Hehe. Exciting. You think so? Thanks. Here's the update.

_Ghostwriter_: Well, you could look at it like that. Though you'll find out in this chapter whether or not they're actually in league with each other. Glad you liked, here's a new chapter.

_Maygin_ - Wow, long review, lots of answers to give. Glad you thought it was awesome (I worked real hard to get it just right). Yeah, I absolutely loved Meg, had to bring her into it. Well, not much of a fight, actually. (Evil grin) They don't stand a chance. Cleansing comes next chapter (if I ever finish it, lol). Yes, I don't know why I put that there. My beta says I write dark scarily well, I'm inclined to agree with her, lol. That just seemed the kind of thing Haley would do in the state she's in at the moment. Meg's plan and more revealed in this chapter. Glad you loved John hand-cuffing Sam to the chair, I loved writing it. Sad, really, but who cares. Here's what happens to Sam. Hehe, more of what happens revealed in next chapter (another evil grin).

_EmSyd_: Yes, very bad Haley. So good at torture, but very bad Haley. But don't let her hear you say that. Here's more, you didn't have to wait _too_ long.

_puplover77_: Hmmm... to kill Dean... or not to kill Dean... I guess you'll just have to read on to find out.

Chapter 35 – There's a Bad Time for Everything

* * *

Sam was on his feet, but not getting very far because of the handcuffs. He settled for getting behind the chair, even if it was a little uncomfortable with his arm still held to it. 

"How are you even here?" he asked. "Last I recall, you got thrown out a window," he said, remembering watching the invisible devas pulling Meg along the floor of the warehouse and then hurling her out the window to fall two stories to the unforgiving pavement. Or at least, it should've been unforgiving.

"Oh?" Meg said. "Last I recall, you were the reason that happened," she said. "That really hurt my feelings y'know, Sammy." She took a step toward him.

"Yeah, well you'll forgive me if I don't cry, considering you almost had the devas tear Dean and I apart," Sam said.

"Yeah, I was hoping we could put that behind us," she said. Sam picked up a shoe and threw it at her. She caught it before it could hit her face. "Hmmm… guess not," she said, tossing the shoe aside. She took a step towards him, and he pulled against the chair, unable to lift it from where John had bolted it down. She frowned.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, still trying unsuccessfully to break free.

"Well…" she began, cocking her head to one side.

"Besides that," Sam cut across her. She smiled, amused.

"Your little girlfriend," she said.

"You want to have sex with her too?" he asked. Meg looked taken aback by the accusation.

"Sam, you know I'm a one-man-woman," she said. "With an emphasis on man." She smiled again. "No, what I want isn't important. It's what my father wants from little Haley that's important."

"Your father?" Sam asked, apprehension momentarily replaced with curiosity.

Meg opened her mouth, but then closed it again. Sam frowned, and she spoke.

"My father isn't a factor at the moment," she said. "All that matters is what I'm after, and what I'm willing to do to get it." She started walking around him, glancing at random things, stopping here and there to take a longer look. Finally, she stopped almost right behind him to look at a photo that lay on the table. Sam saw the box that had been given to them back in Lawrence by Jenny. The one that had all their photos from before the demon attacks. He struggled to look over her shoulder at the photo she was looking at.

She suddenly turned to him, and Sam saw the photo of his Mum and Dad standing out the front of their old house, Dean on their Dad's shoulders while their Mum held baby Sam.

"Such a happy family," Meg said, still looking at the photo. Then she looked up at Sam with a smile. "It'd be a shame to break it apart even more." Sam stiffened.

"Dean's with Haley… You wouldn't be able to get to him," he said, sounding more confident than he felt. "And Dad's… Dad's with them too," he said.

"Are you sure?" Meg asked menacingly, taking a step toward him. "You could be wrong… we could have them both." He glared at her. "One word from me and they're dead."

"You're lying," Sam said, refusing to look at her now. He was staring purposefully at the floor.

"Are you sure?" Meg asked. "Are you willing to gamble your brother's life on it?" Sam looked up. That was all-too-much like what his Dad had said. "Could you live with all that guilt." She gave an amused laugh and smiled. "Oh no, wait, you already do," she said with another short laugh. Sam glared at her, and without even stopping to think, he threw his foot out landing a direct kick to her chest. With shock on her face, she staggered back and crashed into the table, which tipped over and deposited her unceremoniously on the floor.

Sam staggered back as he reached his limit on the hand cuffs, and crashed into the chair. He glared daggers at the demon as she climbed to her feet, steadying herself on the upturned table. She looked at him for a long moment, clutching her chest. Then she smiled.

"I've gotta say, I didn't expect that," she said. "You never struck me as the kind of guy who'd strike me," she said.

"I kicked you, there's a difference," Sam spat.

"Splitting hairs if you ask me, but then again, you didn't," Meg said. She looked around for a second, and then smiled. "Since threatening your brother didn't work, let's try a different approach." She held up a small metallic object; a paper clip. "If you're not at that warehouse when Haley expects you to be, she's going to kill Dean, and then she's going to kill Daddy and the old psychic. Now, I'm taking you there with me whether you like it or not; but if you'd rather me wait until after she's killed big brother, that's up to you." Sam glared at her. "So, are we going now, or are we going later?"

Sam sighed in resignation, bowed his head, and held his hand out for the paper clip. Meg smiled, and threw it over to him. He snatched it out of the air and hastily set about picking the lock of the hand cuffs. When he was done, he looked up at her, a mirthless smile on his face.

"You do realize you're standing right in front of the window, don't you?" he asked. "I could push you out; that's a two story drop. Are you sure you could live with the pain." He gave a short laugh. "Oh no, wait, I forgot. You already do," he said, the smile never leaving his face, though it now held a hint of mock-pity. Meg smiled.

"That's really funny Sam," she said, and pulled a gun from the back of her belt, pointing it at the young man. "Try anything and I'll shoot you in the gut, then I'll reach down your throat and rip out your heart." She gave him a small smile; she could've been telling him she was going down the road to buy milk, the way she spoke. "Now turn around, hands behind your back," she said. Sam opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of it when she took the safety off the gun. "Now," she said calmly. With a sigh of resignation, Sam turned around, putting his hands behind him.

"We can never go somewhere where we can get a nice, clean win, can we?" he muttered. "No, something always has to go wrong," he answered himself. He heard a chuckle from Meg as she began tying his hands with a length of thick rope. He winced as she pulled the knot tighter than he thought was necessary. He glanced over his shoulder. "Out of curiosity, how're you planning on getting me past the front desk?" he asked.

"You're assuming there's anyone alive at the front desk to see you," Meg said, and Sam felt the barrel of the small hand gun pressed against the back of his head. "Now move," she said.

* * *

"Ten minutes, Dean," Haley's voice reached his ears. "Think he'll make it?" He looked up at her where she sat on the hood of _his_ car while he was tied up on the front seat. 

He didn't respond to her, though that had more to do with the piece of foul-tasting cloth she'd gagged him with than anything else. He was awfully weak due to the almost-constant tortures she'd inflicted upon him, but still he forced himself to keep eye contact with her, staring at her. He saw the frustration on her face, and couldn't help but grin. Or try to anyway. As much pain as he was in, he was long past being afraid of anything she could dish out; one could only be tortured so much before it just became… well, it still hurt, but it became something expected rather than feared. Which he knew was far from good, but right at that moment, he didn't care. Not that he had completely given up on Sam saving him.

A small growl escaped Haley. "Quit with the hope already; it's making me nauseous." He rolled his eyes. The demonically-possessed woman stood up, and Dean felt the faintest flicker of fear go through him. Fear turned to relief when she looked away from him, up the road He struggled to see past her, and managed to glimpse a figure approaching from the direction they had come. No, two figures.

"What part of 'come alone or I'll kill your brother' does he not-?" She stopped, and then turned back to Dean, a smile on her face. "Looks like we're going to be having some fun," she said. Dean closed his eyes, remembering what her ideas of fun were at the moment. How was it possible for someone to torture someone else for so long without so much as a coffee break, and still manage to enjoy it? "You know, I think I liked you better before your brother rang," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "At least then you were afraid of what was going to happen." He attempted a smile again. At least as long as he wasn't afraid, she couldn't get a proper hold on him again.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She returned his look whole-heartedly, looked over her shoulder, and then slowly crept away, vanishing into the shadows cast by the faint light of the quarter moon. Dean tried to keep her in his sights, but she quickly vanished into the night like she'd become a shadow herself.

That's when Dean saw that neither of the two figures approaching were his brother; his heart plummeted into his feet when he saw his Dad and Missouri approaching. He laid his head back against the head rest of the seat, realizing for the first time since he'd woken up that maybe he wasn't going to survive this encounter.

As soon as John saw the car, he broke into a run, with Missouri right behind him (or falling behind a little; she hadn't exercised much lately). The oldest Winchester opened the impala door, and took in the sight of his beaten son. Dean was looking at him with a mixture of frustration and fear in his eyes, which he didn't quite understand. He quickly reached down and pulled the gag down from his older son's mouth.

"We have to… get out of here," Dean said. John nodded and reached behind Dean to untie him. "No… forget that… just get in… the car; I think she left the-" Before he could finish, something took hold of him and pushed him back against the seat, pinning him in a very uncomfortable position.

"Dean?" John said, suddenly on edge. He reached out to try and pull his son away from the chair, but he was thrown backwards away from the car.

"Uh uh uh, that's no fun at all." Haley stepped back out of the shadows to stand between John and the car. "My, Sam, you've aged since I saw you last. And gotten shorter; why, you're the spitting image of your father," she said. Then she narrowed her eyes. "I wanted Sam!" she shouted at John, and with barely a twitch of the eye, the older man was lifted off the ground and thrown across the docks into the outer wall of the warehouse. "Instead, I find a rundown, broken hunter and a psychic." At this, she looked over at Missouri, who had been trying to ease behind Haley to get to Dean. "Stop!" she said, and Missouri did. Haley narrowed her eyes, and Missouri was thrown away from the car. Haley smiled when the old woman didn't get back up, and turned back to John. "You see, it wasn't just my empathic abilities that were enhanced by the psi-vamp's blood," she said, walking towards him. "It's opened me to a whole part of my brain I didn't even know existed." She cocked her head to one side, and lifted John into the air, before pinning him against the wall. She looked like she was about to do something she enjoyed when her smile faded. She looked to her left in time to see two bright lights speed towards her. Headlights.

"Oh, sh-" The car slammed into her before she could finished. Dean's eyes went wide from his vantage point in the Impala as Haley was thrown into the air, landing momentarily on the roof of the car before rolling off as it continued speeding down the docks. She landed on her feet, an annoyed look on her face. "That was just rude," she said, turning back to face the car. Then she smiled. "Ah, my knight in shining armor has come to rescue his brother," she said, smiling as the car did a one-eighty and came hurtling towards her again. "Though I don't think he's the one driving," she said, almost as an after-thought. She tilted her head to one side, and the car engine spluttered, before going silent. The car rolled a few more feet, and then came to a standstill.

"What the hell did you do to my car?" came a furious voice. Haley sighed.

"Oh, great. Are all men in this world like Dean?" she muttered. The door on the driver's side flew open and a man stepped out. He didn't seem very interesting until his hazel eyes changed, appearing to become two swirling black holes, devoid of light and life. "Oh, then I guess Sam didn't come willingly."

As if to answer her question, both back seat doors flew open. As did the front passenger door, and the boot door flew right off its hinges. Haley watched the car warily, and then smiled a cold smile when Sam was shoved out one of the back doors, his hands tied behind him.

"Sam," she said, her smile warming ever so slightly. Her smile broadened when she felt a wave of fear wash over him. Before either of them could say or do anything else, Meg climbed out of the car. She took one look at what was happening, and pulled a rather long knife from a small sheath on her belt, and pulled Sam onto his knees, putting the knife against his throat. Haley's face had become completely neutral, but inside she was reveling in all the emotions that were coming from the two demons and Sam. It was almost enough to make her high.

After a few long minutes, Haley decided to break the silence. "Weren't you thrown out a window?" she asked Meg, like they were talking over a cup of tea. Meg rolled her eyes.

"Is everybody going to bring that up?" she growled. She tightened her hold on the knife, but all that brought from Haley was a bored look.

"Are you just going to kneel there holding that thing to his throat or are you going to do something with it?" she asked. Meg snarled.

"Maybe you don't know who it is I am?" she asked.

"Oh, no, I know who you are," Haley said with a nod. Then she gave a mocking smile. "I just don't give a shit," she said.

John, who had been dropped from Haley's power when she'd been hit by the car, was now regaining full consciousness, and quickly took in the situation. He saw Dean had managed to get himself out of the car, and somehow had managed to maneuver himself to Missouri. And he saw Sam, held by Meg with a knife to his throat. He blinked, absolutely shocked.

"How is it that both my sons have gotten taken hostage by two different women on the same day?" he said, climbing to his feet. "Did I teach you nothing?"

"Two '_women_'?" Haley asked, turning a shocked look in John's direction.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Meg demanded, also turning a withering gaze on John.

"We are just as capable as men, you know," Haley snapped.

"Yeah, as you just kindly pointed out, we've both got one of your sons," Meg said.

"Hey, Dad," Dean said from over by Missouri. "Would you mind saving the lecture for when Sam _doesn't_ have a knife to his throat?" John shot his older son a look, and Dean fell silent.

Haley and Meg were eyeing each other, both unsure about what to do with the fact they'd both just jumped on the same wagon for a few minutes. Finally, Meg broke the silence.

"Okay, here's the deal," she said. "Me and my… friend, over there," she nodded to the driver, "we came here for you." Haley didn't even blink; she acted like she had expected this. "So, either you come with us willingly, or I slit his throat." She nodded towards Sam, and Haley licked her lips, enjoying the fresh fear welling up in Sam. This action seemed to unnerve anyone who hadn't already seen it, which was everyone except Dean. Then she opened her eyes, her mind registering what Meg had said. There was amusement in her eyes.

"Are you serious?" she asked. Meg looked confused by the question. She laughed. "Okay, so, wait; let me see if I have this right," she said, closing her eyes as if to recall something. "I took Dean, to trade for Sam. But John came to save Dean instead, and in doing so, he left Sam behind, so that you could pick him up, so that you could bring him here, to trade for me. Is that right?" Meg was looking at her like she was crazy. The amused laugh that followed seemed to fortify that conclusion. "Well, I'm sorry to say, but there are a few holes in your plan," she said.

"Oh yeah, like what?" Meg asked.

"Well, one is… I don't give a damn if you slit his throat. I was actually planning on doing it myself," she said. "Which brings me to the other hole," she added. Meg had a confused look on her face for all of three seconds before she gave a sudden cry of pain, dropping the knife and leaping back, letting go of Sam. She was clutching her wrist, breathing heavily and glaring in Haley's direction.

"You broke my hand!" she accused.

"Oh, it's only a little crack," Haley said. Her left hand came up and gripped the throat of the second demon as he came charging at her with a large knife, halting him in his tracks. "Don't do that," she said, lifting him off the ground. "You demons think you're so powerful, but you're nothing- _nothing_- compared to me." As if to emphasize this, she twisted her hand. The demon gave a short gasp that was cut off abruptly as she snapped his neck. He hung limply in her hand, eyes blank. With a satisfied smile, Haley threw him aside. "And you," she said, glaring at Meg. "You go and tell your Daddy that if wants me, he can come and get me himself." Meg's eyes went wide; fear filled her, she'd never seen anyone as powerful as Haley, not even her own father. "Go!" Haley shouted. Meg wasted no time in getting back in the car and speeding away.

"Dean!" She looked to her left as John tossed something in Dean's direction, who caught it, having been untied by Missouri. The older Winchester, raised the gun and pulled the trigger, shooting a chunk of rock salt at Haley. She had just enough time to realize what it was before it collided with her chest and threw her back. Dean was on his feet, salt gun still in his hand, though in truth he looked like he was about to fall over again.

Haley was faster. She leaned back, and then threw all her weight forward, propelling herself back to her feet, right beside Sam. Dean froze as she moved with unnatural speeds, positioning herself behind Sam, one holding his chin, the other on top of his head.

"Never easy," Sam muttered, like the woman who wanted to kill him didn't have him in the perfect position to break his neck.

"One move, and I'll break his neck," Haley warned. She frowned when she realized she couldn't sense any fear from him. She rolled her eyes. "Hey, maybe you didn't hear me; I said I'd break your neck." Sam looked up at her. His face was completely neutral. There was a little annoyance flowing out of him, but that was it. Then she felt something else. "Stop that!" she shouted. He just stared at her with wide-eyed innocence. "No, stop. Stop it!" She threw him. She lifted him off the ground, and she threw him through the air like he was as light as a feather. He crashed onto the hard wood docks a dozen or so feet away.

Pure rage on her face, Haley ran at him, leaping on top of him and grabbing hold of his throat with both her hands without giving him a chance to prepare, applying pressure straight away. He gasped, and she pinned his arms to the dock with her telekinesis as he tried to push her off. He stared up at her, and now there was fear. She smiled, a cruel, menacing smile as the pulse beneath her hands started to slow.

"Get off of him!" She was startled by the sound of Dean's voice, and even more startled when she felt him grab hold of her by the arms and try to pull her off his brother.

She turned her attention away from Sam for a split second, and threw Dean off of her, before turning back to Sam.

"Your brother doesn't give up easy," she muttered. She saw tears in the youngest Winchester's eyes, and glared. "Don't start crying on me, Sam. It's not going to make it any harder for me to do this," she said. He'd stopped struggling. And she no longer felt fear, or anger, or that accursed love he'd been feeling. All there was was weary acceptance. Her grip slackened just slightly, unsure what to make of this turn of events.

Dean charged at her a second time, this time his hands closing around Haley's throat. He had intended to just try and strangle her until she let go of Sam (and if she didn't, then he _would_ strangle her); what he didn't expect was for steam to start rising from beneath his hands and for Haley to cry out in pain, releasing her hold on Sam's throat.

Sam's eyes widened at what he saw. The instant Dean's hands had touched Haley's neck, her hold had slackened completely. As the steam started to rise, her eyes went wide, and flickered pure black for barely a moment before returning to normal. Then she arched her back, her head colliding with Dean's chest and knocking him backwards. Where his hands had been, there were two angry red burns.

Sam took advantage of her momentary shock, and swung his fist, connecting with her head and stunning her.

He saw Missouri behind Haley. The old woman dropped a satchel onto Sam's chest, right in front of Haley.

"What the-" was all Haley managed, before her eyes drooped and she slumped forward onto Sam chest. Sam smiled, loving the warmth of her body against his. And he too closed his eyes, drifting off into an easy sleep with the aid of whatever herbs Missouri had filled the satchel with.

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**A/N: Lol, I bet you guys are getting sick of the abrupt endings (at least, they seem abrupt to me). Well, get used to it. I've only got a few chapters left to write, and I'm going to make sure I enjoy writing all of them. Dunno what that has to do with abrupt endings, but anyway. Please review, reviews are good. Constructive critcism good too.**


	37. Endless Torment

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley and Dethton.

Author's Note: Thankyou to Chase.

Chapter 36 – Endless Torment

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Dean groaned as he sat up. He was aching all over, and now more so around his chest where Haley had just head-butted him. He saw Missouri standing over Sam and Haley, both of whom were fast asleep. He saw the satchel Missouri had dropped between them, and reached around to look at it.

"What've you got in here?" he asked, eyeing it cautiously.

"Oh, this and that," Missouri said absently, glancing over to make sure John was okay. The old hunter was climbing to his feet, surveying the damage.

"What's this, what's that?" Dean asked.

"Herbs that act as a sedative when their scent is inhaled." Dean dropped the satchel like it had burned him and jumped backwards away from it, tripping on his injured leg and falling flat on his back. Missouri gave an amused chuckle before kneeling down beside Sam and Haley. She sighed after quickly reading them. "It's still in her," she said. Dean frowned, not sure what to say.

"We should get out of here," John said. "Get them somewhere where they can't hurt us or each other," he said.

"Back to the motel?" Dean asked, getting awkwardly back to his feet. He was in so much pain by now that it all seemed to have numbed to a dull throb, unless he put too much pressure on his leg. He stood there, shaking all over from the effort of staying on his feet, John shook his head.

"Nah. Too exposed. Plus you can bet that Meg's had her fun in that place; it'll be crawling with cops before long," he said. "No, we're going to an old cabin out of town; it's where I've been staying these past few days. It's got plenty of rooms; we can keep these two…" he gestured to Sam and Haley, "…separate until we figure out how to fix this." Dean nodded, limping over and lifting (with a lot of effort) Haley off of Sam. He frowned when he took a quick look at Sam to make sure he wasn't too badly injured.

"Sam's fly's open," he said. "Why is Sam's fly open?" he asked, looking over at the two others with him. They both gave him quizzical looks, and he shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know," he said, reaching down and zipping up the front of Sam's pants, before throwing Haley over his shoulder and carrying her to the Impala. He shoved her (perhaps a little rougher than was necessary) into the back seat, and pushed her all the way over to the other side. Then he climbed in, sat down in the middle, and helped his Dad and Missouri get Sam into the back seat beside him. Normally he wouldn't willingly let someone else drive his car, but in his state (almost beaten to a pulp and feeling like he could sleep for a month) he didn't feel he could stay awake long enough to turn the key in the ignition. Not to mention driving out of town to wherever the cabin was.

A few minutes into the drive, Dean was fast asleep, one arm wrapped protectively around Sam, the other holding Haley against his chest, and his head resting on Sam's shoulder. John couldn't help but smile as he glanced into the rear-view mirror and saw Dean doing exactly what he had raised him to do; keep the family together. Missouri smiled as well, and after a minute, took out her mobile and took a photo of the sleeping family in the back seat.

John gave her a quizzical look, and her eyes widened when she found out what he was thinking. "You think just because I know herbs and read thoughts, that I'm not keeping up with the times?" she asked. John chuckled, and shook his head. Missouri tried to keep the knowing frown, but before long she was smiling as well. It had been a long day; it felt good to know it was almost over.

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"Where are we?" Sam asked. He was in a vaguely familiar room, filled with sunlight that poured through the open windows.

"Who can tell?" Sam turned to look at Haley, standing there in the white wedding dress he'd visualized her wearing when they'd faced the Fear Spectre. Except the veil; it was laid at her feet. He looked around, realized where he was.

"I've been here before," he said. Haley smiled, and nodded knowingly. "How'd we get here?" he asked, turning to look out one of the windows. The scenery outside seemed to shift as he looked at it, one minute, a vast forest, the next, open fields, the next, a seemingly endless beach.

"Maybe you wanted to be here," Haley offered. "Maybe I did." Sam looked over at her, a confused look on his face. "Maybe I'm not real. Maybe I'm just what you wish I was. What you know I can be." Her smile became somewhat sad. "What could've been." She looked to her right, and Sam gasped as a strange smoky-substance began to materialize beside Haley, slowly taking shape, and then solidifying. Beside Haley stood an exact duplicate of her, with one difference. She was Haley when he had first met her; jet-black clothes, sunglasses, even the black wig.

"What…?" Sam began.

"… am I?" the new Haley finished. He blinked, tilting his head to one side as if to get a better look at her. The second Haley removed her sunglasses, and Sam gasped, taking a step back when he saw the soulless black eyes of a demon staring at him where Haley's blue eyes normally were. "I'm what is," she said, a wicked grin spreading on her lips. "I'm evil."

The Haley in the wedding dress closed her eyes, and seemed to be in pain. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She turned away, and time seemed to slow down for Sam as he saw a knife appear in the hand of the demon-Haley. She turned and stabbed, the knife plunging into Haley's back.

"No!" Sam cried out as his eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright reaching out expecting to see demon-Haley and thinking he could stop her. Instead, the heel of his hand connected with Dean's chin and caused him to fall back off the bed and onto the floor.

Dean stared up at him in surprise and confusion. Sam blinked rapidly, frowning when he realized it must've been a dream. He looked around, and saw Missouri looking at him with concern on her face.

He swallowed, and looked back down at Dean. "Sorry," he said. Dean nodded, climbing to his feet and rubbing his chin.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"Nothing, it was… just a dream," Sam said. Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother, and Sam gave him a pleading look. After a minute, Dean nodded, accepting what Sam had said. The young Winchester looked around the room and realized he didn't recognize it. "Where are we?" he asked.

"A cabin just outside of Dethton," John said, walking into the room.

"Where's Haley?" Sam asked, realizing she wasn't in the room with them. An awkward silence followed this question while John and Missouri exchanged looks. "Where is she?" Sam asked, a little more forcefully this time. "She… she isn't…?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "No, she's not dead," he said.

"But… I'm sensing a 'but' coming," Sam said, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"But… she's still possessed by the demon," Dean said. Sam stared at his brother for a few long minutes.

"'I'm what is'…" he said softly.

"What?" Dean asked.

"It's killing her," Sam said. "The longer that thing is inside of her, the harder it's going to be to save her."

"Whoa, wait," Dean said. "There isn't anything inside her," he said. "It's… it's too hard for me to explain. Missouri?" he asked, turning to the old woman behind him.

"I'm not that old," she snapped at him. He took an involuntary step back. Missouri shook her head in frustration, before turning her attention to Sam. "What your brother said is more or less true. Haley isn't being possessed, there's no demon inside her. It's more like… a presence, that's awaking her darker side."

"Her much darker side," Dean put in, and Sam suddenly noticed how awkwardly his brother was moving, not to mention the cuts on the side of his neck. He winced, remembering what he'd seen Haley do to Dean in her twisted attempt to make Sam suffer.

"Well, how do we get this… presence… out of her?" he asked. Missouri opened her mouth, then sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know," she admitted. Sam said, leaning back against the bed head. Then his brow furrowed as he remembered something that had happened right before Missouri had put both he and Haley to sleep.

"What did you do to her?" he asked, turning to look at his brother.

"What… what did I do to _her_?" Dean asked, assuming Sam was accusing him of something.

"No, I mean… when you were trying to get her off me," he said, realizing how Dean had taken the question. "You did something, with your hands. When you touched, I don't know, it was like you burned her or something." He looked to Missouri for help, since she had also seen it.

Dean also looked to Missouri, suddenly remembering the reaction Haley had had to his touch. She frowned, as if trying to figure it out herself. But the answer came from John.

"I have a theory," he said, and everyone's eyes were suddenly locked on him. "All Dean's life it's been his job to protect Sam, to stop anything from hurting him." He gave a half-hearted laugh. "The way this family is, it was only a matter of time before his desire to protect Sam manifested itself into something… supernatural." Dean stood there, staring at his Dad, unsure what to make of what he had just heard.

"So, wait you're saying that… somehow, Dean has got a power like me and Haley?" Sam asked.

"No," Missouri said, shaking her head, realizing something. "Not like yours and Haleys. The two of you… your powers come from your mind. But Dean's… his comes from his heart. From his unwavering desire to keep you safe," she said.

"Love," Sam said. "No wonder Haley reacted so badly to it."

"What?" Dean asked, turning to look at Sam.

"You saw what happened back at the dock, right before she started trying to strangle me," Sam said, turning to Dean. "Haley's new demonic side can't handle love. She went totally berserk when I tried to direct mine at her." He frowned.

"Sam, don't even think that!" Missouri ordered. Dean and John both turned questioning glances at her. Missouri gave John a piercing stare. "John Winchester, you tell your son we are not leaving him in a room alone with Haley," she ordered. John blinked, obviously not expecting that. Dean was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at his brother.

"Are you completely insane?" he demanded. "Or have you forgotten that the whole reason this happened was because she wanted to kill you?"

"I can save her," Sam said adamantly. "I know I can." He looked pleadingly at his father. "Please," he all-but begged. John sighed, looking from Sam, to Dean, to Missouri, and then back to Sam.

"Let's see if I have this right: if I let you go in there, and it fails, one or both of you could die," John said. "On the other hand, if I don't let you go in there, Haley's definitely going to die." Sam nodded, slowly. John let a breath out, turning away from Sam, and the youngest Winchester knew right away what his father's answer would be.

"If you don't let me, it's over," he said, getting to his feet. John turned to look at his son.

"What?" he asked.

"If Haley dies, then it's over for me," Sam said, utter seriousness on his face. "I quit. I'll go back to college, I'll graduate, and I won't ever- _ever_- help you with another hunt again." John and Dean both stared at Sam, not wanting to believe him but both knowing he would be completely adamant in keeping that promise.

Finally, John gave a long sigh, and nodded. "Okay, do it," he said. Dean's eyes widened.

"Excuse me?" he said. "You… Dad, you can't let him." Sam turned and looked at his brother, only just now noticing he was wearing only shorts and had a bandage wrapped around his thigh. He frowned, remembering hearing Dean scream over the phone when Haley had stabbed him. "Sam, you can't really… she's stronger than you, in more ways than one."

"I have to try," Sam said. "It's my fault she's like this," he added. Dean tried to stand in his way of the door, but in his weakened state, Sam didn't have much trouble getting around him. He closed the bedroom door behind him, hearing Dean shouting at their father in a tone mixed with anger and fear. Sam sighed, knowing Dean was only angry because he didn't think Sam was capable of pulling this off. Which annoyed Sam a little; he thought his brother had more faith in him than that. Then again, none of them were exactly one-hundred percent, so that might have something to do with it.

He looked down the hallway, and realized he didn't know which room they'd put Haley in. Frowning, he went to the first door (there were four, and all of them were closed), and turned the knob, pulling it open. It was empty except for an ugly looking lamp. He closed the door and moved onto the next one, which was also devoid of human life (minus the beds), though this one was clearly where Dean had rested while Sam had been asleep (judging by the dishevelled, slightly blood-stained sheets). Beginning to feel more than a little anxious, Sam closed that door as well. He opened the third, and saw Haley standing in a circle of salt with her back to him.

He walked slowly into the room, careful not to make a sound. He turned around and closed the door, and when he turned back to face Haley, he jumped back in shock (hitting the closed door); it wasn't that the fact that she was suddenly staring directly at him, it was just the shock of how fast and how silently she'd moved.

"Haley?" Sam said softly, stepping away from the door. He froze when he felt something, like the beginning of a headache. Then it got worse. A lot worse.

"They're all waiting," Haley said. Her voice was barely audible, less than a whisper. "They're all screaming, like children watching death, they're screaming, but no one hears them." Sam gasped in pain, his hand going to his head as he felt pain beyond any pain he thought the human body was capable of feeling. It wasn't physical, at least not entirely. It was like when he'd been younger in high school, after a long weekend of hunting and having to stay up late trying to finish his homework; that almost-headache feeling you got when you tried to fit too much information into your head at once. Except this was ten times worse. And getting worse by the second.

"What are you doing?" he gasped, falling to his knees, head in his hands, bowing before Haley in a way.

"I'm helping you," she said absently. "You've always wanted to understand what it's like. What I have to suffer every day. There's nothing but pain. Those who inflict it suffer. Those who feel it suffer. There's nothing but suffering." She blinked, and suddenly the pain was gone, as was the blank stare on her face. She had a look of complete control. Sam looked at her, knowing full well that she couldn't reach him as long as she was in the circle of salt.

He slowly got to his feet, still feeling the aftermath of her assault on his mind. Was that really how it was for her? Right now, all that pain, all that loss? And she was still standing. He had a sympathetic look on her face, which only seemed to anger her. She made a lunge at him, but stopped right before her hand reached the inside of the salt circle. She cringed and pulled back from it, a snarl on her face.

"You can't keep me in here forever," she said.

"You're right," Sam said. Haley tilted her head to one side, confused by his words. The next instant, Sam's fist connected with the side of her face and she was sent staggering back, cringing away from the edge of the salt circled at the last second. But before Sam could pull his hand back, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him forward into the circle, reaching up and pulling him down into a fierce kiss. Maybe it was something of her doing with her vast array of psychic abilities, or maybe he was just dumbfounded by the beauty of kissing Haley to do anything. Either way, Sam was completely unprepared when she pulled back, and then punched him in the side of the face (though he probably should've expected it, considering he just punched her). He staggered back, and as he did so, his feet dragged along the floor and broke the circle. A cold smile crossed Haley's lips as Sam hit the wall, and she stepped over the gaps in the circle Sam had made.

"Thanks, it was getting awfully cramped in there," she said. Before Sam knew it, he was lifted into the air and pinned against the wall, feet dangling about a foot off the ground (which said something for how high up the ceiling was). She looked him up and down, frowning. "You know, this may not be as painful for you if you were a little more…" she reached down and, to Sam's surprise and horror, pulled a knife from her boot. "… afraid." It was small; in fact, like her gun, it could hardly be called a weapon. But it was sharp, and it was in her hands, which was enough to make it a weapon in Sam's eyes. "That's better," she said. She took a step toward him, and then hesitated.

His fearful look slowly changed into a small smile (which was hard for him considering he was pinned to a wall while someone who wanted to kill him had a knife). Haley took a step back, shaking her head. "Stop," she said, swallowing, trying to stay calm. She tightened her hold on the knife. "Stop it. Just stop it!" She threw the knife, but her hand faltered at the last second, and the knife imbedded itself in the wall about an inch to the left of Sam's neck.

Haley's whole body was shaking as she slowly backed away from him, still shaking her head.

Sam was dropped to the floor. He landed in a crouch, watching as Haley stopped backing away right before she reached the salt circle. He breathed a sigh of relief; for a minute, he'd been worried Haley was too overwhelmed by everyone else's pain to feel him, even in such close contact. Luckily, those fleeting moments of fear had been unfounded, and Haley was now staring at him with a mixture of frustration, pain, and desperation on her face.

"It's not true. None of it. You're wrong." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "Stop it. Get out of my head. I can't stand this anymore." She looked up, her eyes a deep, dark black. Sam's eyes widened briefly before he was once again thrown against the wall. Then he felt something else, a clawing inside his skull, like someone had reached through his head and taken hold of his brain. It sent shockwaves of pain through his body. Her face was a mask of calm fury (if that was possible) as she watched him struggle against the invisible force holding him against the wall. She clawed further into his mind; his deepest, darkest secrets were open for her to read like a book. But it wasn't the information she was after (though she certainly got an awful lot of it stored away in her own memory), it was the pain Sam suffered at having his thoughts almost literally ripped from his head that was the reason why Haley was doing it.

"Haley…"

"Shut up," Haley said. "Shut up! Just… stop it!" Sam pushed with all his might against her hold, while at the same time trying to maintain his thoughts and feelings of love directed at Haley (which was fast becoming harder and harder due to the intense stress Haley was causing his mind). His eyes suddenly went wide as he threw all he had (physical and mental) against Haley, and Haley was shoved backwards into what was left of the salt circle (and after that there was almost nothing left of it). Sam was once again released from her kinetic hold, and almost fell forwards (since he hadn't actually been prepared for getting free).

Haley looked up at him, a pained (and angry) expression on her face. Her eyes were still deep black, and they went wide as she made to throw Sam against the wall a third time.

What neither of them expected was for Sam to only be pushed back a few feet. Her breathing ragged, Haley tried again, and again. Each time she tried, it got weaker, until finally she couldn't move him at all. There was a very distressed look on her face by then. Distressed and exhausted. Unsure what else to do, she lunged at him, swung her fist and punched him square in the chin. His head snapped back and he crashed backwards into the wall. Haley stared at him, waiting, not quite sure what to expect.

He climbed unsteadily to his feet, determination (not to mention exhaustion) in his eyes. "Haley…"

"No!" she shouted, and she punched him again, this time in the side of the face. He took the blow, and then turned back to her. Tears started to form on the rims of Haley's eyes as she punched him again on the other side of the face.

"I lo-" She picked him up and threw him across the room into the opposite wall. He struggled back to his feet from where he'd landed, only to have her fist connect with his face once again. There were tears streaming down her face, and she was gasping for air like she'd just run a marathon. "I love you," he gasped. She hit him again, and he turned back to face her.

"No! You… you can't," she sobbed, hitting him again. And again. She kept hitting him, repeating her words and others like them. Each time Sam felt like his head was about to snap off his neck, and each time he turned back to face her. Finally she collapsed forward onto him, still beating her fists weakly against his, crying into the front of his shirt. "Don't do this. Please, please… just make it stop… make the pain stop," she begged. Exhausted, Sam fell backwards against the wall, sliding down, holding Haley in his arms as she continued to cry.

He whispered soothingly to her, reminding her of everything they'd done, of all the good times they'd had together, though the only words that were coherent to either of them was his occasional reminder that he loved her.

After another small eternity, she finally pulled away from his embrace, pain evident on her face. "Make it stop, Sam," she said, a pleading look on her face. He looked at her in confusion.

"I don't…" He trailed off, not sure what she meant.

"You can end it Sam… I thought the only way to make the pain go away was to kill _you_…" Sam's eyes widened as realization dawned.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I won't. I can't."

"Yes, Sam. Please. Please I'm begging you." She was on the edge of hysteria. "Do it. Please. Kill me." Her eyes were unfocused and bloodshot, her whole body shook with the effort of trying to keep herself from completely losing control. "You have no idea what this… is like," she shouted, looking away from him as a fresh wave of tears began to flow. "I can't stand it another minute. Please, do it!"

"I do…" Sam said softly, holding her so she was forced to face him. "I understand, Haley. Better than most, I know what it's like to feel alone in a… a sea of darkness," he whispered. She stared at him, disbelief on her face. Then she remembered back to their first hunt after joining up. When Sam had been blinded.

She shook her head (or tried, Sam was still forcing her to look at him). "It's not the same," she muttered, trying to look away. Sam sighed.

"Maybe it isn't," he said. "But it doesn't make this situation any different," he added forcefully, and Haley scoffed, looking at him like he was crazy. "I'm serious," he said, and Haley could tell by the tone of his voice that he was. "You saved me. You helped me get through it." He pulled her into a tight, warm hug, and she resumed crying into him. "Now let me help you. Let me _save_ you." Her eyes suddenly went wide and she pushed away from him, gasping for air. Then her head snapped back and she screamed as the black, smoke-like substance of demon essence erupted from her mouth, covering the ceiling in a matter of seconds.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the expulsion of the psi-vamp's essence ended, and Haley's head tilted forwards, and Sam gasped; her eyes were still black.

"Th… thank… you," she gasped. She blinked once, and her eyes returned to normal. And then she slumped forward into Sam's arms, her once-again-human body finally completely worn out.

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A/N: Wow, I finally got here. I had this little part planned since… well, the beginning. Until about a day ago, I had no idea how to write it. Now I do, and I have. But the story ain't over yet. No, not quite. I really want to know what y'all think of this little exchange, so why not drop me a review and let me know. Too chick-flicky? Really good? Not good? Awesome? The list of things it could be is apparently endless, and I ain't writing any more of them.


	38. Numb

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I do own Haley, Dethton and the Heart of Gold Prophecy.

Author's Note: Okay, since I've got so many ideas as to what I can write, I'd like to hear (well, read) what my readers would like to see next. Since this is the last chapter before the epilogue, I'd like anyone who reviews to tell me which of the story ideas I have posted on my profile that you think looks best for my next fanfic. I already have a vague idea which one I'll do next, but I may change if something else turns out to be more attractive to the readers' eye.  
And thank you to Chase for being the beta reader.

Review Answers: Haven't missed anyone, have I? Don't think so.

_Robinisawsome_: Ya think? Well, you're the reviewer, who am I to argue, glad you liked it. I actually made you cry? I feel accomplished.

_EmSyd_: Yes, I was aiming for as emotional as was humanly possible. I may not have achieved that, I'm still refining that particular writing skill, but judging by the feedback, I did well enough. Here's more, enjoy it.

_puplover77_: So cool. Touching. Both sound good to me, glad you liked it.

_skycandygirl_: Lots and lots of compliments help to make me happier. Yeah, I couldn't really leave her as a psi-vamp, now, could I? Or could I? I guess we'll never know now. Lol.

_Ghostwriter_: Yeah, it was, wasn't it?

_erica22_: Yes, everyone has lived to fight (or die -innocent smile) another day.

_carocali_: Really? Ya think so? Hmm, okays, that's interesting to know. Yeah, I thought the stachels was a good idea, and I knew that a salt circle would contain Haley, but then I was faced with the problem of how to get her out so I could play out the plot I'd planned.To my knowledge, I created the Heart of Gold myth. I figured that, since both the psi-vamp and Haley were empathic, it seemed to fit well that it would be the cause for hr descension (sp?)... like that word... anyway, glad Haley turned out to be loved (by more then Sam), and you liked her empathy. As for the ending, that's right around the corner, if I could only start it, lol. Anyway, hope you enjoy what remains of the story.

Chapter 37 – Numb

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'…**she will walk amongst the dead, as evil stands beside her._' His lips weren't moving, but the voice that wasn't quite his voice seemed to fill the room. '_The blood of her heart will stain her hands, and the darkness shall feed upon it to rise from its bonds._'_**

"_**A man… He found some sort of… power… that allowed him to fight off the demon," he said. "They called it the-"**_

"_**Heart of Gold," Sam said suddenly, not a doubt in his mind he was right. Both John and Dean stared at him. **_

"_**This man, he fought the demon, damn-near killed it, too. Probably would have if he hadn't been exhausted and killed himself," he said. "But the demon, it couldn't return to its former power; the Heart of Gold had weakened it to the point where it was barely alive. These days, it's nothing more than a parasite, feeding off of others…"**_

"'**_The Heart of Gold Prophecy," he said out-loud. "When moon and sun share the sky as one, and the day gives way to dark. The one who walks the line will rise, and step out of the shadows of others to walk the night. She will walk amongst the dead, as evil stands beside her. And the blood of her heart will stain her hands, and the darkness shall feed upon it to rise from its bonds."_**

_**His eyes went wide at the complicity of the document. Despite trying his hardest, he couldn't make sense of any of it. Save two words.**_

"_**Haley Evans." He looked up. "What's Haley have to do with this?"**_

_**Haley removed her sunglasses, and Sam gasped, taking a step back when he saw the soulless black eyes of a demon staring at him where Haley's blue eyes normally were. "I'm what is," she said, a wicked grin spreading on her lips. "I'm evil." She turned and stabbed, the knife plunging into Haley's back.**_

Haley's eyes went wide and she sat bolt upright, swayed unsteadily, and then fell back, feeling strangely refreshed despite the abrupt awakening. She closed her eyes, feeling a strain on her mind as memories flooded her consciousness. Sam's memories; the ones she'd ripped out of his mind when she'd tried to torture him. Thoughts of that suddenly made her aware of just how much damage she'd caused over the past day or so.

"Sam…" she said softly. Would he forgive her for what she'd done? Would Dean? Dean was the one who'd suffered the most at her hands. Guilt swelled up inside her when she remembered everything she'd done to Dean. Guilt and disgust; was her dark side really _that_ dark?

Briefly, she saw the black haired woman that had called herself Haley's dark side. Was it possible that it had actually taken on a life of its own? Through the essence of the psi-vamp that had infected Haley?

She suddenly became aware of a steady course of beeps coming from not far away. She looked around and discovered, to her horror, that she was in a hospital. As if this realization opened a floodway, the emotional stress hospitals brought her started to fill her mind. She reached up to rub her head… and found something burdening her hand. She looked down and saw a large hand holding tightly onto hers. Her gaze moved up the arm, and took in the messy brown hair and sleeping face of Sam, his head resting on his other arm which was on the bed. She couldn't help but smile; the doubts that he would forgive her beginning to melt away as she watched him sleep. She brought her hand to her mouth, kissed her fingertips, and touched Sam lightly on the top of the head, before laying her hand over his.

"Haley…?" Sam whispered in a small voice. The relief in Sam's eyes as he slowly raised his head to see if she had really woken up made Haley wonder just how long she'd been sleeping. Sam blinked rapidly, as if not quite convinced he was really seeing her. "Haley?" he said again, a little stronger this time. A small smile spread on his lips. She nodded, reaching over and pulling him into a brief, but intimate kiss. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and Haley found herself lost in the memories of those few times where their love had been at its strongest.

But then she pulled back as less appealing memories, some hers, some Sam's, crept into her happiness. But her smile didn't falter as she stared at Sam.

"Thank you," she said in a small voice, her throat feeling raw. She reached up and rubbed her neck, and Sam frowned apologetically.

"An after-affect of expelling a demonic essence out of your mouth," he explained. "I had hoped that it would have worn off by now."

"'By now'?" Haley echoed, her throat still soar. "How…" She swallowed. "How long have I been asleep?" she asked. Sam's frown deepened.

"Haley, you've been unconscious for almost two weeks," he said. Haley's eyes widened, and she laid back against her pillows.

"'Two weeks…'"

"Is there an echo in here or something?" Sam said; his voice sounded scolding, but the small smile and look of pure relief in his eyes told Haley he was just happy to have her back. She returned his smile, and yet something inside her was telling her to hold back. Something wasn't quite right. In an effort to take her mind off it (and at the same time draw the subject away from she and Sam), she reluctantly asked the question that had been first and foremost on her mind after Sam's forgiveness.

"How's Dean?" she asked. Sam's smile faded.

"He's… coping," he said. Haley looked away.

"How badly did I hurt him?" she whispered meekly.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Haley looked up and saw Dean. Dean being pushed into the room on a wheel chair by Missouri. Her frown deepened. "What, no happy hello?" he asked, a warm smile on his face. "Okay, I suppose I can let it slide this one time, considering you just woke up," he said. "And on that note," he reached over and hit Sam lightly on the back of the head. Sam yelped in surprise.

"What was that for?" he whined, looking over at his brother.

"Why wasn't I told she'd woken up?" the older brother demanded in a mock-angry tone.

"Give me a break, _she_ only just woke _me_ up," Sam mock-complained. Dean shook his head, pretending to be disappointed in his brother.

"Sleeping on the job, Sammy," he sighed. "Imagine if Dad came in here and found you like that?" he asked, doing his best impersonation of their father's tone, despite the fact he looked like he was about to burst into a fit of laughter.

After a few minutes of somewhat awkward silence, Haley took in the faces of Sam, Dean and Missouri. Finally, she spoke up.

"Dean, I'm… sorry," she said, looking at the man she'd come to regard as much as a brother as Sam did. "For what I did to you." She was trying hard not to dwell on those memories. From the look on Dean's face as soon as she brought it up, he was trying to do the same thing. Being Dean, he shrugged off the attempt apology with a cocky grin, followed by…

"Hey, you know, chicks dig a guy with scars…" he said with a shrug. "You just happened to give me… a whole lot of new ones," he added. Haley continued to frown. "Hey, come on, don't dwell on it. Stop living in the past… do what Sam does best and look into the future."

Sam gave a short laugh. "I'll ignore that," he said flatly right after the laugh. Dean flashed Sam a grin, before turning back to Haley.

"I'm serious," he said. "You weren't yourself, I get that." Haley still looked doubtful. "If you want I can yell at you some," he offered, his grin getting wider.

Rolling her eyes, Haley took one of the pillows out from behind her and hurled it at Dean, who threw his arms up to protect his face.

"Easy, easy, I'm an injured person over here," he said. "I ought to be treated like one."

"I'll remember that tonight when it's time for your shower," Missouri said with a mischievous grin. Dean's eyes went wide and Sam burst out laughing, joined soon after by Haley. Behind Dean, though, Missouri turned a worried gaze on Haley, who saw it, and had a feeling Missouri knew something about her other feeling. About what was keeping her from opening up completely to Sam again.

* * *

They were released from the hospital a couple of days after Haley woke up (well, Sam already was), on the condition that they rested up plenty. Dean saw this as a chance to make Sam wait on him hand and foot. Haley saw this as a chance to try and sort through all the new memories that had taken up residence in her head. 

Missouri left, returning to Lawrence, but not before she made Sam, Dean and Haley promise to visit her. Then, a couple mornings after, Sam woke up and found a note from his father explaining that, until the demon surfaced again, it would be better if they went their separate ways.

So, once again, it was just the three of them. Or more, it was Sam and his two patients, even if Haley was only being spoiled rotten because Sam insisted on it (she was tired, she wasn't actually injured).

But eventually, even the joy of having Sam as his willing and obedient slave grew boring for Dean, so one morning, he talked his brother into taking him for a drive around town (and Haley noted with amusement the embarrassment he was feeling at having to _beg_ his brother to take him out). Sam offered to take Haley as well, but she refused. She was still trying to work out exactly what she remembered and what Sam remembered, and until she did, she didn't want to have to deal with the effects of her empathy as well. So she stayed behind.

She was scanning old newspaper articles on the internet, looking for any jobs they could do once Dean had the stitches in his thigh taken out and had finished his recovery. She still cringed every time she remembered that she was the one that had done that to him, and not for the first time remembered the dream Sam had had. Then something else crept out of her vast array of memories. Like one of Sam's visions it seemed to force its way into her mind.

_Not really sure what he was doing, or why for that matter, he typed the first nine words he had spoken into the Google search engine._

_He waited a few seconds, and then the links to a few different pages appeared on the screen. Biting his lower lip, Sam went to the first one, which had an exact match._

_The website at first appeared to be nothing more than a black screen. Then words slowly began to appear, sending a chill down Sam's spine despite the fact he knew it was just computer animation. He looked at the header of the page._

"'_The Heart of Gold Prophecy'," he said out-loud._

She frowned. She'd never been _that_ good with remembering details, except when it came to a hunt, but Sam's memories… they were as vivid as if she was living them right at that moment. All of them.

Not really aware of what she was doing, she moved the cursor across the screen and clicked the history button, going through the websites Sam had been to. It went back four weeks, which was good, because it had been three weeks since he had been to the site. She clicked on it, and watched as the words moved onto the screen. She gave an involuntary shudder as she remembered the documents John had shown Sam. Like everything else, she saw them as clear as if they were right in front of her. Saw the calculations, the writings, everything. None of it made sense to her, just as it hadn't to Sam. Except her name. What did she have to do with it? That was the one thing Sam had never found out. Or if he had, it had been after she'd taken his memories.

She read the prophecy, unease settling in as the words reached her ears, like someone else was reading them out to her. She stared at the screen, her breath quickening, unsure what to make of it. Then she thought of something else that might answer the question that was weighing down on her mind: What did this mean to her? And what did it have to do with her?

She tilted her head to the side, remembering something. Something she hadn't seen.

"_You hold onto these, Sam," John said, handing Sam the envelope of documents he'd gotten out of the post office. "You've worked out more about them since you saw them than I have since I first found out about them." Sam stared at the envelope, not quite sure what to say._

Haley frowned. She turned around, remembering where Sam had put the envelope. She got to her feet and walked over to the bedside table, pulled open the drawer and took out the plain envelope, sitting down on the bed and staring at it. Biting her lip, she opened it and slipped the documents out, feeling a sense of foreboding as she began to examine them.

* * *

Sam sagged only slightly under his brother's weight as he helped Dean down the hall. As much as the older Winchester didn't want to admit it, he was still easily tired out, trying to recover from the beating Haley had given him. 

"Dean, we need to monitor your eating habits," he said. "I think you've gained some wait since the last time I had to carry you."

"I'm not surprised," Dean said. "Last time you actually carried me that you weren't running on adrenaline, I was, what? Nineteen?" he asked. Sam laughed, and realized they'd reached their room. He reached over with his free arm (since the other one was currently supporting Dean) and pulled open the room door.

He froze when he saw Haley sitting on the bed. What caught his attention was the empty envelope and the different papers strewn over the bed. Haley's eyes were locked onto one document in her hand. She looked up as Sam walked into the room supporting Dean, a somewhat distressed look on her face.

"Dean, your brother and I need to talk," she said, getting to her feet and letting the paper fall to the bed behind her. Sam bit his lip, but helped Dean over to his own bed. The older brother shrugged him off when he tried to help him get into bed.

"I'm injured, I'm not an invalid," he said. "Go talk to your girlfriend." He slipped under the covers of the bed, reached over and grabbed the TV remote, hitting the power button. Haley stared at him for a few minutes before turning back to Sam. She didn't say anything, but the look on her face told him enough. She walked past him, and out the door. Sam turned and followed.

Haley didn't stop until they were both out at the car, then she turned an accusing look on Sam.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. Sam refused to look at her, and she felt a mixture of shame, regret and annoyance rising up inside him.

"I didn't… I wanted to be sure… but I wasn't…"

"Sure of what?" Haley interrupted. "Sure that I was going to die?" she snapped, voicing the thoughts both of them were thinking. Sam finally looked at her. "'The blood of her heart will stain her hands,'" she recited. "Since it takes about fifteen-to-twenty seconds for the human heart to stop beating after it's damaged, I think it's safe to say we can be sure."

"Maybe not," he said hopefully. "The words of a prophecy aren't always literal," he said.

"They're not always figurative, either," Haley said.

"What are you so upset about?" Sam snapped suddenly. "Is that something you wanted to hear right after waking up from a coma? That according to a prophecy, you're supposed to, not only die at the hands of the demon we're hunting, but your blood is supposed to be what returns it to power?"

"No," Haley said. "That's not what I'm upset about." She turned away, not looking at Sam. As if he could read her mind, Sam rolled his eyes and stared at her.

"We're not getting back to this again, are we?" he said. She turned back to him.

"This is the exact reason why it's so hard," she said. "As a hunter, I might've been able to accept why you kept this a secret from me. But tell me, if we weren't together, would you have tried so hard to keep it from me?" Now it was Sam's turn to look away. "Or would you have told me straight out and let me deal with it in my own way?"

"No, I wouldn't have let you deal with it on your own, love or not," Sam said.

"But you wouldn't have kept it a secret," Haley said. "This is my point. This relationship is getting in the way of our job. How're we supposed to protect people if we're too worried about protecting each other?" Sam still wouldn't look at her. "We can't hunt together and _be_ together, Sam. It… it won't work," she said, and Sam could tell it cut her up inside to say it.

"I can't stop loving you…" he said meekly. "I won't," he added. Haley nodded, tears coming to her eyes.

"Neither will I," she said. Sam turned to look at her then.

"So, what? We just stop hunting?" he asked. She bit her lip, and shook her head.

"No," she said. "_You_ don't." Sam blinked.

"_What_?" he demanded. Haley stared at him, hating herself for what she was about to say.

"I'm leaving," she said. "I'm your Achilles heel Sam. Just like you're mine." She shrugged. "As long as I'm around, you won't hunt. At least you won't hunt at the top of your game." Sam was shaking his head. He had been since she'd told him her decision. She swallowed, and tried to walk past him. Before she could, though, Sam took hold of her with both hands pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss. Her first instinct was to just let herself drown in it, give into him. She pushed the thought aside, and then pushed him away. She saw the hurt in his eyes; tears had started to fall from both there eyes, and they just stared at each other. "I'm sorry," she said, and pushed past him, taking off at a run. Sam just stood there, dumb-founded. He didn't hear the thunder crash in the sky, see the clouds gather, or feel the rain as it started bucketing down around him. He felt… numb.

* * *

A/N: So, what do y'all make of that? Review and let me know, I've almost reached 100 reviews, yay. 


	39. Dancing With the Demon

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

**Disclaimer**: As the curtains begin to fall… ah, I won't even bother finishing that sentence. I don't own Supernatural.

**Author's Note**: Second last chapter. Technically. Also known, however, as the first part of the Epilogue. I probably could've (should've) done it as one, but I wanted the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter to be an actual cliffhanger (though knowing the way I write things, it won't be one for very long). Also, let it be known that I know nothing of pregnancy tests.  
One-hundred reviews! I am now a very happy writer, because that is the most reviews I've ever gotten (of course, this is only my second multi-chapter fanfic, but who's counting?), and I owe it all to you people. Especially since you're the ones who made it happen.  
Anyway, enough rambling, on with the show.  
Oh, thank you to Chase for helping a lot with this chapter.

**Review Answers**: Almost done.One Hundred Reviews!

_skycandygirl_: Yes, she broke up with Sam, I'm so cruel. Hehe. Hmmm, will she die? I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Evil cackle.

_EmSyd_: Here be more.

_erica222_: Sad, yes. Very much so. Maybe they will, maybe they won't. You'll just have to wait and see. Hehe.

**Epilogue 1**: Dancing With the Demon

_

* * *

Three Months Later_

With some effort, Haley forced herself to look up from the toilet bowl. She gave herself a shake, and pressed the button to start the toilet flushing. The noise did nothing to quell her uneasy stomach, but thankfully she was over the initial vomiting. She walked over to the mirror and stared at herself. Was that the same girl that had had the perfect lover and a reasonably good life just a few short months ago?

Since leaving Sam and Dean, she'd sunk into something of a routine, where she got up every morning, had breakfast, went out and spent a couple of hours wandering aimlessly through town, and making sure she was back by two, when Elise came home. A couple of days after she'd arrived, losing her breakfast had fit into place right after eating it in her routine. At first, she and Elise had assumed it was simply anxiety; she had, after all, just left the love of her life to a rather dangerous job (she'd told Elise that Sam and Dean were private detectives that happened to travel a lot, taking any jobs in whatever town they settled in). But the vomiting had continued, it was starting to worry both women.

The only change in her routine happened not long after the vomiting started, in an attempt to 'let go of the past'. Haley had gone out and bought a whole new wardrobe full of color, and then burned all the dark clothes she'd used to wear.

A possible cause of the vomiting had occurred to Haley when she looked back on the three months since arriving and realized she hadn't had her period once since arriving. At first she dismissed the idea; it couldn't really be possible that one of those few times she'd made love to Sam, they'd conceived a baby. Could it?

It became very clear to Haley that that was a definite possibility when she began showing other symptoms of pregnancy. The first being that she was becoming a lot more easily worn out, and most of her normally long walks came to early endings often completed by a short nap on the couch.

But the most unnerving (and by far, embarrassing) symptom thus far was how moody she'd become as of late, especially when it came to the neighbor's dog, which had a bad habit of waking up at random hours of the night and barking at nothing in particular. Haley became convinced the animal was purposely trying to disturb her, and almost took out her pistol and shot it right then and there when she'd seen the Chihuahua coming outside into the neighbor's backyard after a particularly horrible night.

Even with those symptoms, Haley still denied the possibility she could be pregnant. It wasn't that she didn't want to have a baby; she just didn't feel she was up to carrying Sam's child so soon after leaving him. Not to mention the complications it would cause for Sam.

But when it came down to it, her leaving Sam had nothing to do with it. She could quite easily raise a child on her own, especially since she wouldn't be entirely alone, with Elise being there for her. No, what bothered her was the history both her and Sam's family had when it came to babies. She was afraid of what would happen when six months came after (and if) she had a baby.

"Haley, are you planning on coming out of there soon?" Elise called from the other side of the door.

"That depends on how much of the bacon and eggs are left in my stomach," Haley called back. As if the mere thought had set her off, she raced for the toilet, emptying whatever remained in her stomach into the bowl.

* * *

"Sam, if I come in there and find the toilet full of vomit again, you're riding to the next town in the trunk," Dean shouted at the bathroom door. His brother had developed a habit as of late of vomiting into the toilet and forgetting to flush. Though, to be truthful, Dean had been more worried about what was causing his brother's sickness than how focused Sam was on hygiene and courtesy. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of the toilet flushing, and a moment later the bathroom door unlocked and Sam pulled it open.

"Sorry," he said meekly, looking at his brother. "I guess I've got some bug or something," he said, walking past his brother and laying back down on his bed, taking in a deep breath. Dean walked over and sat down on the bed beside him, giving his brother a perplexing look. "What?"

"Nothin'," Dean said quickly, getting to his feet and walking towards the bathroom, in need of a shower to wash away the evidence of last night's particularly gruesome hunt. Since Haley had left, Sam had all-but thrown himself back into hunting. And Dean had thought he was bad after Jessica had died. He shuddered at the thought of what Sam would do if _Haley_ actually died.

After a long hot shower that only ended when the hot water ran out, Dean dried himself off, got changed into a clean pair of clothes, went out into the main room, then changed his mind about what he was going to do. Seeing Sam resting (for once) peacefully in the bed next to his own, Dean stripped off his outer clothing and crawled into his own bed. He hadn't realized just how tired he was after a long night of hunting until his head hit the pillow. He barely had time to register the fact he was tired before he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Haley opened her eyes, feeling a little more refreshed than she had (she checked the clock on the wall) about half an hour earlier when she'd returned home from her walk. She sat up, stifling a yawn as she did so, and rolled her head in a small circle to loosen up her neck, which was a little stiff. 

She vaguely recalled dreaming about Sam (her sleep had been plagued by Sam and that damn dog ever since she'd arrived, and her midday naps were no exception). That was all she really remembered; it was if nothing else in it had been important.

She didn't really enjoy the dreams; she'd been trying desperately to move on from him, even tried to date one or two guys since arriving back in Blackwood. But every time she had one of those dreams, it was back to square one. And square one brought her back to thoughts of she, Sam and what they'd possibly created on one of those few nights they'd shared the same bed.

With a sigh of resignation, she climbed to her feet and went into the kitchen, took out a container of strawberries and two plums from the fridge, grabbed an apple, cored and skinned it, skinned the plums and then cut them up to remove the stone, and then dumped all three into a blender, put the lid on, and turned it on. A few moments later, she poured it all into a tall glass, and then went back into the living room. She sat and drank her fruit beverage, flipping through TV channels, but eventually became annoyed with that.

It seemed the more she tried to forget about Sam, the more life was trying to remind her of him, and the TV was not excluded from it. While there were no direct mentionings of them (that would have been just plain creepy), it was amazing how many subtle hints seemed to have worked themselves into everyday TV.

She breathed a small sigh, turned the TV off, finished off her drink, and got to her feet. It was time to put an end to the suspense. She was going to find out once and for all if she and Sam were up for more complications, even now that they'd gone their separate ways.

* * *

"I seriously think you need to see a doctor," Dean said as he counted up the money he had in his hand that he had won whilst doing his favorite pastime: pool hustling. 

"Oh, come on, Dean, it's just some lousy vomiting. The last time you vomited we didn't go to the hospital for three days," Sam said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "And it was your appendix for crying out loud." So much for that.

"Yeah, except you've been vomiting for three _months,_" Dean said, having a much easier time at keeping his voice level than his brother was. "I think it's safe to say it isn't a bug," he said.

"One more day," Sam begged. "We know it's not my appendix; if it was it would have ruptured by now and I'd have died a horrible, painful death," he added with a grin. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sam, I'm the only one allowed to make lame-ass jokes about your untimely death, got it?" he said pointedly. Sam held up his hands in mock-defense.

"Okay, okay," he said. A few minutes of silence. "I'm not going to the hospital," he said. Dean looked at his brother for a minute.

"You think so?" Dean asked, and Sam had all of four seconds to ponder why his brother was watching him before Dean tackled him to the floor, followed by ten or so minutes of wrestling. It was something the two of them had always done when they were younger and one of them was down. Because they were both so focused on winning (let it be known that Winchesters are sore losers… which often results in sore winners) to think about whatever it was that was upsetting them. Of course, Dean also had the motivation of wearing Sam out so he would go to the hospital willingly. It seemed, however, that Sam had put more time into practicing since his embarrassing defeat by Dean all those months ago when he'd picked him up from the apartment he'd shared with Jess, because Sam was putting up a hell of a better fight than he had then.

But, as always, the older brother won out eventually. But by then neither of them were fit to drive; when they wrestled and sparred, it was serious, and both of them often ended up with more than a fair share of bruises and aching bones after a fight. Sam laughed as he pulled himself to his feet by supporting himself on the table.

"You haven't fought that bad, since I was six," he taunted.

"If I fought so bad, then how come I'm the on sitting on the bed, and you're the one who has to pull himself up by a table?" Dean shot back, grinning.

"I went easy on you," Sam said lamely. "Oh, man, Dean, I think you dislocated my intestines," he said, groaning. After a minute of rubbing where his intestines supposedly were, he shook his head. "No, nevermind, still there," he said. Dean rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. He glanced over at the clock, revealing it was almost two o'clock in the afternoon. Feeling in a bit of a spontaneous mood, he got to his feet. "Come on, let's go out," he said.

"Where?" Sam asked, still panting from their wrestling match.

"Movies, I think," Dean said. "I've been wanting to go see the DaVinci Code." He took out the wad of cash he'd won earlier. "And I got a lot of spending money."

* * *

Haley stared down at the stick where she'd set it on the table about two minutes earlier and waited for it to turn positive or negative. For her right then, waiting for it to change was the equivalent of pulling the individual hairs off her hand with tweezers; boring and painful. 

A small eternity later, she wasn't sure if she should be happy or distressed when the end of the stick finally changed color. She continued to stare at it, like if she did so long enough it'd change and she wouldn't have to consider just what she was going to do with the result.

Her thoughts were abruptly halted when a droplet of blood fell from the ceiling and splattered over the end of the stick. Haley's back stiffened. Her eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat. A second droplet fell and splashed over the first.

Unable to stop herself, Haley turned her head, looking up to the ceiling. Her mother's black eyes stared down at her, her mother pinned to the ceiling with blood dripping from her abdomen. Haley took a moment to take in what she was seeing, and then she screamed as flames erupted around Elise's body.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes with a sharp intake of breath, feeling the heat of the fire against his skin. He swallowed, then realized Elise was not staring down at him from the ceiling and he was _not_ about to be burned alive by the demon. Then realization hit him like a ton of bricks: Haley _was_. 

He threw back the covers and got to his feet, purposely being as noisy as he could as he rushed around the room grabbing everything they'd need, so that he didn't have to take the time to try and wake Dean up. The older Winchester made a displeased noise as he was woken from his sleep.

"Wassup?" he said sleepily. He glanced over at the clock. "Jeez, Sam, it's two-thirty. In the morning, I might add," he said irritably; he rolled over, pulling the blankets tighter around himself.

"Haley's in danger." Dean looked over his brother, a look of confusion on his face.

"Excuse me?" Dean said. "Hadn't we just finally gotten over her abrupt departure from our lives? Hadn't you just decided you weren't going to sit around mourning over her and get on with your life?" Sam seemed to ignore him as he continued to prepare for their own abrupt departure. "Sam, talk to me."

"It's the demon, it's after Haley," was all Sam said. And that was all Dean needed. As upset as he was about Haley leaving (more hurt that she'd left without saying goodbye than anything else), he had no intention of leaving the young woman to burn at the hands of the same thing that had killed his mother. He was out of bed and getting ready to leave almost before Sam had finished talking.

* * *

Haley fell off the couch, staring up in horror at her mother's burning. She looked away, her breathing ragged as she tried not to inhale the smoke, while getting what little oxygen was left by the fire. She couldn't bear to look at those blank eyes a second longer. Her whole body shook as she tried to get away from the flames that licked at her clothes and skin. 

And then her eyes fell on the pregnancy test, and she was reminded of Sam momentarily. He'd gone through this; he'd lost his mother, his girlfriend because of this. It was because of this demon that he hunted. Because of the hunt that they'd met. And it was because of the hunt that they'd lost each other.

How many others had she lost because of this demon? Elise had given her up in the first place to protect her from it. Cassie had died defending her from it. She'd lost Sam because they could not longer hunt it together. And now she'd lost her mother as well!

She looked back up into the flames, cold fury replacing terror as she recalled all the losses she'd suffered through her life. After all the pain it had caused her, what right did it have to take away the one thing she had left? Her breathing became short animal-like gasps and the blackness of her pupils swelled out, expanding over first the irises, then the whites of her eyes, until they were completely black.

"Get. Out!" she screamed. It seemed loud enough for the whole street to hear, but no one beyond the walls of the house heard even a whisper. Flames shrunk and died as they came near her, suffocated by her anger. But still the fire burned. "Leave!" she screamed up at the flames, black eyes reflecting the flames in a bizarre way, giving the effect that her eyes were two small globes of fire.

To anyone watching the house from the outside (and due to the fire spotted through the living room window, that was a lot of nosy neighbors), all the windows appeared to simultaneously shatter, as if struck by something from the inside. And a loud, guttural scream filled the house, but, like Haley's, never left its walls.

And then it was gone. The fire continued to burn around her, but the demon's mark was gone. Haley continued to stare up at her mothers burning body, broken glass scattered on the floor around her from lights, mirrors, vases and window, and her eyes slowly returned to normal. She bowed her head, feeling the heat continue to rise around her. Nothing mattered anymore; she had nothing left. Everyone she loved was gone.

* * *

A/N: Okay, an explanation to Sam's vomiting. I read (or heard, can't really remember) somewhere that on occasion men will suffer morning sickness along with their wives/girlfriend/etc, and I figured, of all men, Sam seemed like the type who'd suffer along with Haley. What can I say, I can't leave their relationship alone even after they've ended it. 

So, people, how many of you knew Haley still harbored demon in her? I left a pretty big hint when she expelled the psi-vamp and her eyes were still black, so I'm guessing most of you did. Or maybe you just thought it was an aftereffect? Well, it wasn't. Anyway, review and tell me what you think.


	40. Til Death Do Us Part

**Supernatural – Heart of Gold**

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Supernatural. Haley is all mine. So is Blackwood. "Didn't We Love" is owned by Tamara Walker.

**Author's Note**: And so it comes to an end. Explanations and all are at the end because I don't want to spoil anything.

**Epilogue 2**: 'Til Death Do Us Part

* * *

It had taken them almost a day when they'd been going from Blackwood to Dethton. Of course, that was during the day and the driver was actually heeding the speed limit. As it happens, neither of those factored in to the drive back to Blackwood. 

"Sam, I think you killed that rabbit," Dean said, looking over his shoulder and out the back window. If they had run over something though, Sam was going too fast for Dean to see it now. He looked over at his brother, whose entire focus seemed to be on the road ahead of him. "Sam, slow back down to the speed of sound!" he shouted. Sam eased down to a slightly more safe one-hundred-and-forty kilometers per hour. "She's going to be alright, Sam," Dean said.

"How do you know?" Sam said. "Come on, Dean, let's be serious. Mum died, Jess died. I think my record speaks for itself." Dean didn't know what to say to that. Sam appeared to have convinced himself that he was going to lose Haley based on what had happened to him in the past. But then why was he in such a hurry to get there if he was so sure Haley was already dead?

It took them about eight hours to reach Blackwood. It would probably have taken more if Sam hadn't kept speeding up every now and then. They might've gotten there sooner if Dean hadn't kept telling him to slow down.

He slammed the brakes a couple houses down from Haley's home, and the car spun and then skidded to a stop. Dean sat pressed against his seat, holding on as tight as he could to the bottom of it, eyes wide with fear. Sam seemed too focused on the burning building outside to realize he could've just killed them both. He threw the door open, and got out of the car.

After a few seconds, Dean became sure that the car had stopped moving, so he undid his seat belt, pushed open the door, and climbed out after Sam.

As Sam got closer to the house, one of the fire fighters stepped out in front of him to block his path.

"Whoa, wait, you can't go in there," he said. Sam ignored him and tried to push past him, but the guy took him by the arms and pushed him back. "I mean it; it's unsafe. The whole structure's become unstable."

"But I… I have to," Sam said glaring at the man, and using every bit of his height to try and seem as intimidating as possible. "I have to find out. My… I think my girlfriend's inside."

"She isn't," the firefighter said, and Sam froze, immediately fearing the worst.

"Wh-what?" he gasped, feeling like he'd been hit in the gut.

"There were no bodies inside," the firefighter said as Dean approached. Sam looked unsteadily up at the house. He knew that the bodies of the demon's direct victims were never recovered. But what about Haley. She hadn't been on the ceiling when it had attacked; was it possible she'd escaped? Or had she merely been burned to nothing by the flames like her mother. Sam bit his lip, not sure what to think.

"Sam." Dean put a hand on his brother's shoulder as the firefighter returned to helping his colleagues finish off what remained of the fire. Sam shrugged it off.

"Is she alive?" the younger brother whispered, like he expected Dean to know the answer to that question. Maybe he did. Slowly, Sam turned to look at his brother. "Dean… she's alive isn't she?" A sob sounded from somewhere in his throat. Dean stared at Sam, not sure what to say. "She has to be alive. Dean… Dean, I can't lose her too. I can't lose anybody else." Dean bit his lip.

"Yes," he finally said, and he hoped like hell that he wasn't lying. Sam finally looked directly at his brother. "But she's probably really messed up Sam… I mean, she just…" he saw the broken windows and trailed off. That didn't normally happen. At least not that he remembered.

"Where?" Sam said. Dean looked back to his brother. "Where would you go if you felt like there was no one left in your life?" Dean thought for a minute.

"A bridge?" he offered. Sam's glare was cold and serious and told Dean that wasn't the right thing to say. "Sorry," Dean said, looking down. Sam didn't see the look of seriousness on his face. Sam looked away, trying to think. There had to be something…

He suddenly gave a small laugh, looking away and shaking his head. Dean looked up. "What?" he asked.

"She told us," Sam said. "When there were days life became too hard to live. Where did she say she went?" he asked. Dean cocked his head to the side, trying to remember. His eyes widened in surprise.

"No, you don't think…?" he asked, turning to look straight at his brother. Sam shrugged. He wiped his eyes, and Dean realized he'd been close to crying.

"Let's find out," the younger Winchester said.

* * *

With a little apprehension, Haley took in a deep breath. Her clothes were strangely unmarked by the fire that she had felt against her skin earlier that night. Not even black from the ashes. Looking out at the crowd of people, she started. 

"**Quarter moon  
Always makes me think of you  
Are you thinkin' of me too?  
When you see it shine  
It's kind of sad  
But I'm smiling, imagine that  
Cause we were lucky to have what we had  
If only for a time**"

_She looked around her as the flames continued to consume the place that had, just moments earlier, been her living room, and cried. For herself, for Mary, for Jess, for Dean and John, and most of all for Sam. Because she missed him. Because she wanted him to be there, to hold her, telling her everything was going to be okay. That he was there for her and that she was safe. But she'd slammed that door shut in his face, and she didn't think he was in any hurry to open it again._

"**Didn't we set the nights on fire  
Did ever a flame burn any higher  
Wasn't it so sweet? Wasn't it?  
Didn't we love?**"

_She was perfectly happy to just kneel there and burn. What difference would it make? The only person she had left to care was god knows how far away and probably didn't even know what was happening. But then she felt something. The faintest flicker of life, like when she'd reached out to Sam in Lawrence. Except it was coming from inside of her now. And it wasn't her own life that she felt._

"**It's okay  
Sometimes I just get this way  
I can't forget you anyway  
I wouldn't even try  
I'd rather fall  
Than never to have flown at all  
It was heaven after all  
If only for a time**"

_Her eyes widened. She's never felt something so beautiful as the beginning of new life. Tears started anew, but this time they weren't tears of loss and mourning. Nor were they tears of joy. They were tears of realization; of what she'd been about to let happen, and of about what it would mean not to do it._

_The fire licked at her clothes, her skin was red where it got too close. She suddenly became aware of just how close she was to being burned alive. She moved like she was possessed, on her feet, moving through the flames where they were at their lowest and weakest, faster then any human could possibly hope to be, she suddenly found herself out of the house, coughing and spluttering and stumbling. But she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. She had to keep running. She had to get away from that house._

"**Didn't we have it all back then  
Will I feel that way again**"

Haley felt her breath catch in her throat when she opened her eyes and saw Sam standing in the crowd, staring transfixed at her. It didn't seem possible. But she knew it was him, and her lips spread into a sad smile.

"**Didn't we set the nights on fire  
Did ever a flame burn any higher  
Wasn't it so sweet? Wasn't it?  
Didn't we love?**"

He smiled when she recognized him, feeling a warmth inside him that he hadn't felt since she'd left. Behind him, Dean was just as transfixed as Sam by Haley's voice as she sat on the stage and finished singing.

"**Isn't it bittersweet, isn't it?  
Didn't we… **

**Love?**"

She barely waited for the music to finish playing as she set the microphone down while standing up, and then ran off the stage, through the crowd, and threw herself into Sam's arms, wrapping her own tightly around his neck and crying into his shoulder. He embraced her as tightly as he could without suffocating her, his own tears barely contained as he held her to him, not wanting to ever let go of her.

"Shh, shh," he whispered soothingly, rubbing her back and stroking the back of her head, giving her the comfort she so desperately needed right then. "Everything's okay now. I'm here, you're safe now." He continued to stroke her, unaware of most of the people in the bar doing their best to give the young couple space while staring questioningly at the young man that stood behind them. Dean ignored them, and after about five minutes, Sam got to his feet. But he didn't let Haley go, and for that she was eternally thankful. He lifted her up and carried her like a small child, with Dean right behind him.

* * *

Sam set Haley gently down on the bed, where she sat staring at him for what seemed like forever. Dean noticed the mood between the two of them as he walked in, and slowed backed out again, deciding they needed some time together to sort things out. 

Sam and Haley took about ten seconds, waiting to make sure Dean was really walking away from the door and not just pretending to, then Haley threw herself into Sam's arms and pressed her lips against his, desperate for the love she'd denied herself the past three months. Sam was all-too willing to oblige, kissing her back with a desperate passion that told Haley he'd felt just as deprived in her absence as she had in his.

Before they new what they were doing, Haley was stripping off her blouse, shirt, pants, continuing all the way until she was standing naked in front of Sam. An unspoken conclusion came that they couldn't wait for Sam to strip off so he just pulled his pants and boxers down, and pulled her to him. With a hunger equivalent to a starved predator in a cage with fresh meat, Haley laid back against the bed and took Sam into her, a long-missed thrill shooting through her body as he thrust, again and again.

"I've… missed… you!" she moaned, her whole body filled with ecstasy as he finally released himself into her. For a while, everything that had happened since Haley leaving up until that moment meant nothing. They were living in the moment, enjoying it while shutting off everything else for as long as they possibly could.

"I'm… so sorry," Haley gasped as Sam laid down, and rolling over so she was on top of him. She kissed his neck. Well, tongued it would be a better way to put it. Her lips moved, finding his ears as he stroked her naked body, enjoying the form of the young woman he had missed so much. She finally found her way to his lips, and they enjoyed a couple of long minutes of what Dean had called 'tonguing each other's throats', though in truth they didn't get quite as far as each other's throats. "I…" she gasped, "never… should've… left." She felt cold, and maneuvered him so that he was forced to roll over. Despite being worn out from six hours of driving, Sam was careful to keep his weight off Haley as they continued their heated make-out session.

* * *

Some hours later, they were both lying naked under a skimpy single sheet, Haley's head resting on Sam's arm as what literally seemed like the weight of the world came crashing back down on them. 

"I just sat there… I couldn't do anything," Haley was explaining. "Could I have done anything? She was staring at me, I felt like she was angry at me, but in a different way, like she thought that what was happening was my fault." Sam was reminded horrifyingly of his dreams of Jess after she was killed; she'd blamed him in those.

"You can't do that to yourself, Haley," he said, holding her a little more protectively. She snuggled into his embrace. "Talk about it, think about it, cry about it. But don't think that you could have changed something. And whatever you do, you can't blame yourself," he said. "It'll only drive you crazy." He looked down at her, brushing a loose strand of blond hair out of her face, and a small smile crossed her lips.

"Mmm, I have you to do that," she said, leaning up and kissing him on the lips. "It's strange… I should be grieving… I should feel sad, but there's… there's nothing." She had a confused look on her face. "Is there something wrong with me, Sam?" she asked. He looked back down at her.

"Not a thing," he said, kissing her gently on the forehead. "You're perfect," he added, pulling her up onto his chest so that they could face each other. "My perfect angel," he said. She smiled again at that.

"I'm no angel," she said, leaning in to give him a light kiss. The burning desires had been doused for now; only intimacy remained. But that wasn't a bad thing. Sam smiled through the kiss, and when Haley finally pulled back, he felt something in him that he hadn't felt since before Jess had died. Certainty; a sense of calm and safety. He'd found his home again. His home was where his heart was. Home was in Haley.

"Haley, get up," he said. Confused, but intrigued, she got to her feet, pulling the sheet with her and wrapping it around her chest so that it hung like a very, very long sarong. And leaving Sam very much exposed, much to her delight. Not wanting to be completely naked when he did what he was about to do, he grabbed the sheet off the other bed, and wrapped it around himself, then walked back around to the other side of the bed where Haley was standing. He took a deep breath, and then knelt down on one knee in front of her.

Haley's eyes went as wide as saucers, and she caught herself just before she took an involuntary step back. Sam took another deep breath, and took her hands in his.

"Haley, these last few months without you… they've been a hell I can't begin to describe, and never wish to return to," he said, and then realized that may not have been the best way to start. "You are… well, you're beautiful, you're smart, oh, you know what, I suck at these speech things," Sam said, and Haley gave a small chuckle. "Haley Evans, I come to you, a man, nothing less, and definitely nothing more, with no ring to speak of and wearing only a sheet, and ask for you to be my wife." Haley looked down at him, tears welling up on the edge of her eyes. For just a fleeting second, Sam's defense mechanism shot warnings when he thought she was, after all this, going to refuse him. But then she smiled, and was nodding vigorously, tears of overwhelming happiness flowing freely from her eyes.

"Yes…" she said. "Yes, yes, and a thousand times more yes." She leaned down and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Now stand up, I can't stand to be taller than you for another second." With a feeling of unexplainable joy and a smile that could've lit up the dankest, darkest hole in the ground, Sam wrapped his arms around her waist, and lifted her off the ground as he got to his feet.

"I love you, you know that?" he said.

"Would you have… loved me… any… less if I'd… said no?" she asked, and Sam could only just make out what she was saying with her lips pressed against his in a deep, intimate, passionate kiss.

"Maybe… just a little," Sam said with a smile to show he was joking, and Haley smiled too.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," she said. Then she put all her weight against him and pushed him back down across the bed, a broad smile on her face and pure joy in her eyes. There was still so much to deal with, so much darkness in their lives. But darkness and evil was for Monday mornings. Right now, there was just Haley and Sam, too exhausted to do anything but hold each other, lips gently caressing each other, enjoying each other's company.

Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a Monday morning. But until then…**

* * *

_"Sam."_**

_"Yeah?"_

_"I'm pregnant..."_

**

* * *

****The End…**

**A/N:… hardly. That's a laugh. No, this is most certainly not the end of the story. Just the end of this particular chapter of it. Keep an eye out for the sequel (name still under consideration) which, with any luck, will arrive in the not-so-distant future. Also, those last three lines, where Haley tells Sam, I just added that in the Document section of the site. Thought it might be a funny way to finish it off. Now, for the part I've been dreading; going through all the reviews and writing down each individual name. Well, here it goes: Let me take this time to thank everyone who has reviewed this fic:**

**Thank you to skycandygirl, Robinisawesome, erica222, EmSyd, carocali, Ghostwriter, puplover77, BridgetLynn, mysterychic, Sagebeth, EvilTC, Wildcat023, greenka87, Stranded, Maygin, JPFAN, Miss Meehan, rusho100, POTC-Girl, Adra, Modern-Insomniac1138, and LilCruelAngel. You have all made this fanfic easier to write, and read.**

**And now, a big THANK YOU to Chase El Toliso, not only for reviewing, but also for volunteering to beta this story. You have _definitely_ made this story easier to write and read.**

**Apologies to anyone I might have missed. If you've reviewed before I finished this story, email or PM me, and I'll put you there. Until next time, Cyas all. **


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